Reversegentrification

Darkness beseeches long lost afterthoughts.
The penumbra of bygone time is tinted
vague verde, very disorienting.
Retrospection becomes a rogue,
rouge with remembered thrills and
never embarrassment. Shrill with
silence, it mocks me.
O! you fool! How you frolicked
through faint fain fantasy,
forlornly fuchsia.
Dreamt disdain daintily,
deeply delusional.
My hopes lack the harlequin
hop meadows to rest a heavy heart.
To lay in the tall grass
that is turning to straw, brittle
and beige. Riddled with rage
for what I have let slip
off of every twisted tongue,
out of every obtuse orifice.
My spite becomes engendered
into a vast cosmic latteo.