Sitting alone in a whirlwind
Black center and hail pellets
Scattered platters of food
Drowned out conversations,
mumbled spit up
Can't calm the angered nature
of broken class in a sheepish world
Twelve days until the broken
symphony sings in front of a
tidal wave
Twenty four hours until yesterday
Spin cycle repeats deceit
What more is there than then?
When everything stops spinning
and the wind eats karma
for breakfast with Mother Nature
on Sunday morning.
Mar 13, 2017
Mar 13, 2017 at 12:46 PM UTC
Sitting alone in a whirlwind
Black center and hail pellets
Scattered platters of food
Drowned out conversations,
mumbled spit up
Can't calm the angered nature
of broken class in a sheepish world
Twelve days until the broken
symphony sings in front of a
tidal wave
Twenty four hours until yesterday
Spin cycle repeats deceit
What more is there than then?
When everything stops spinning
and the wind eats karma
for breakfast with Mother Nature
on Sunday morning.
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