Washed wander wetlings dropped raw into the abyss

Split silent spat on false ground fed to the fire

Perfection dancing in raindrops whirling winds of lost chances

Speechless nostalgia torn back from careless slumber

Nothing left to determine who’s who and what’s what

Gliding bashfully on inspiration and impulse

Hop scotch and candy canes drawing nothing out of arrested bliss

Coffee cups and cigarettes plays double dutch to feel a bit

Dark shades upon the eyes to see another’s glory in fear to fade your own flame out

Sinking mud to swallow shallow formations in loose concrete paying homage to backward insight

Monuments to dull creation and lost dogs to give up the fight

Ghosts blowing tears off lady liberty and fairy godmother wrapping Alice in a blanket of wool

Warm bunnies crawling out of the wall to catch a frog tumbled hopefully from the sky.




Accepting love donations to contribute to my writing quest. No amount is too small to keep the dream alive. "A buck don't suck"


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