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Apr 2020
In sweet visionary illusion
Swept up in mindless delusions
Grand thoughts swelling fourth
As mind over matter which pierce the sky
And at this time I cover my eyes
To Shield them from reason
But their is no need as it’s all obscured by clouds

Grey is the colour an eclipse of judgement in fine detail
Status Quo agenda, dig a hole
Bury my head in the sand as it comes through the other side of a flat moronic earth
Social distance from reason, No vaccine to cure the brain from this ignorance plague
Weeping from the wound of privileged upbringing, In a prison surrounded by lacklustre villains watching society crumble from the cell of self justification, Locked doors and keyless thought

Rushed to the windows to watch the sky, No way to see the sun when it’s obscured by clouds.
Conor Martin
Written by
Conor Martin  Belfast
(Belfast)   
130
   Fredy Sanchez
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