Along the Road

Along the road I met a boy called Space,

His eyes as dark as a black hole spinning through emptiness,

His head as round as the Earth orbiting the Sun,

His hands burning and sizziling.

I met a man called Death,

He wore a black cloak as dark as your shadow,

His eyes burrowed into your soul reading every thought.

I met a girl called Pleasure,

In which her eyesight summoned satisfaction

And joy to whoever was fortunate to meet her;

A magnet in a world of steel.

I met a woman called Ice,

Her eyes like jagged daggers

Freezing your soul,

Her hands grasping into your heart,

Causing pain and unhappiness.

I met a boy called Time,

His fingers restless from fiddling with clock hands,

His head filled with precise clock numbers,

His body disarranged from travelling through time.

I met a girl called Plant,

Her hair a straggly bunch of weeds flowing and cascading down her back,

Her hands as rough and hard as tree roots,

And her eyes two blue forget-me-nots,

full of tears ready to flow.