imperial revolution
I didn't have to-a collection
came easy
over the wires
sensations fuzzy
left as afterbirth
for the crow
for the buzzard
to be tone deaf
would be the gift
while molestation
of beliefs become
the harvest nearing
simple joys
undone today
to a future haze
lack of love
bringing in the flies
to rid the decay
but still a simplicity
in wordless finale
to the crumbling
before the new
for me as will you
Please login or register
You must be logged in or register a new account in order to
Login or Registerleave comments/feedback and rate this poem.