My kaleidoscope is bits
Of frozen memories
Jig sawed into a vision
Of images that haunt me.
At times I am bipolar,
Other times, practically not.
But the horrid shadows of images
I lived
Seep back into my socks.
I had a kid's dime store toy,
Kaleidoscope they said it is.
Put it to your eye,
Point toward the light,
And you'll see beautiful sights
Like you never did.
Beautiful stained-glass bits
Revolving with gravity
Every slight movement changes
Exactly what the picture will be.
With the right perspective,
And a firm grip,
I can hold my bipolar kaleidoscope
And figure out my trip.
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