one cliché here
one cliché there
one sober mess
and soberness
seems clear
the skies weep
and the sun is yellow
and poets dream
lovers quarrel
can't tell when it's time
to end a sentence
stanza
phrase
or verse
versus the mind
and
soul
and
body
of
the
heart
that
is
red
blooded
by a thousand erections
of towers to the weeping sky
under that yellow sun
and the green grass
and the tides
that ebb and flow
listening to the sighs of wind
in and out
breathe and pout
you'll never be
that is to see
the reflection of your soul
on mine
or some nonsense about loss
of time.
Mar 15, 2022
Mar 15, 2022 at 4:29 PM UTC
one cliché here
one cliché there
one sober mess
and soberness
seems clear
the skies weep
and the sun is yellow
and poets dream
lovers quarrel
can't tell when it's time
to end a sentence
stanza
phrase
or verse
versus the mind
and
soul
and
body
of
the
heart
that
is
red
blooded
by a thousand erections
of towers to the weeping sky
under that yellow sun
and the green grass
and the tides
that ebb and flow
listening to the sighs of wind
in and out
breathe and pout
you'll never be
that is to see
the reflection of your soul
on mine
or some nonsense about loss
of time.
