Wednesday, March 18, 2015


Furrowing in, there is a wish to be recycled
To be handled with care and made whole again
Among the innocence and optimism that checks in with whimsy
Even in light of all my staunch, unwavering control.

It is no less predicted that this life resign itself
To remain protected from all foreign matter
Bureaucratic inconsistencies quibble as the judge within idles by
Taking in with a filter, all the voices that these limbs have to offer.

Time is a recluse, solitary confinement cannot be this reputable.
I dream of fusion and coupled movement, despite my planet of One.

No comments:

Post a Comment