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Dec 2016
Be it rye, barley, berries: whichever my glass carries
- will keep me content- if only for a brief moment.
These fermented cherries do cause the little fairies
- to speak, very, kindly to me, far as my eyes can see.
Could it be: thee- yeast has suddenly caused a cease
- in sanity- for me? Or is it that I've, simply, released
- my need for other people's nods and approvals?
Have I, merely, stopped caring what fellow pupils
- see and/or feel when they look or think t'ward me?
December 29, 2016
Hideous Aegidius O'Crowley
Written by
Hideous Aegidius O'Crowley  20/M/Upon Thee Prairie Plains
(20/M/Upon Thee Prairie Plains)   
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