The crickets,
sing of nothing.
While,
the stars watch,
in equitable silence.
I,
think of screaming,
my rejection,
to the sparkling void.
Cigarette smoke,
pirouettes,
in the wind.
Grace.
It all means nothing.
Clouds consume,
the scenery.
Rain,
drowns the music.
So it goes.
Apr 16, 2015
Apr 16, 2015 at 11:13 PM UTC
The crickets,
sing of nothing.
While,
the stars watch,
in equitable silence.
I,
think of screaming,
my rejection,
to the sparkling void.
Cigarette smoke,
pirouettes,
in the wind.
Grace.
It all means nothing.
Clouds consume,
the scenery.
Rain,
drowns the music.
So it goes.
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