Strange fruit

If oranges are green what else might be
The unexpected trips that see me fall
The meaning hidden or not there at all
A case that I can’t trust the things I see

If oranges are green I play a part
A European biter of the hand
Corruption that is watering the land
Is stop preventing change to ever start

If oranges are green I am not brown
I’m hiding from the wonder of sun
The words like rapid firing of the gun
I’m up where everybody’s chips are down

So oranges are green and here am I
An alien who sees through bluest eye

Advertisements

Author: thepoetautist

A Gay poet of fifty odd years who is currently living in Cambodia.

3 thoughts on “Strange fruit”

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s