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alysha-l-scottPoems
Down the burrow, the bells do toll when the fox has passed, as the orange stain fades and the ***** of tomorrow still stifles the tendril of today. When I was small a half martyred critic sowed the seed, laid waste as a garden grew invasive purple and I smiled. Beneath skin, a tyrant reigns the royal mouth of seasons, changing. Eden was a bag of bones, dust to claim the ruse of divinity. Don't tell, do tell when children grow, a **** flourishes, insanity!  Insanity! Hear, they're there, here, flows a ready current and the sun sleeps, lightening in the night-- When the tail of today is swallowed a soil paunch, down the belly, am I killing time or is it killing me?
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Aug 14, 2012
Aug 14, 2012 at 12:17 AM UTC
Fox Hole
Down the burrow, the bells do toll when the fox has passed, as the orange stain fades and the ***** of tomorrow still stifles the tendril of today. When I was small a half martyred critic sowed the seed, laid waste as a garden grew invasive purple and I smiled. Beneath skin, a tyrant reigns the royal mouth of seasons, changing. Eden was a bag of bones, dust to claim the ruse of divinity. Don't tell, do tell when children grow, a **** flourishes, insanity!  Insanity! Hear, they're there, here, flows a ready current and the sun sleeps, lightening in the night-- When the tail of today is swallowed a soil paunch, down the belly, am I killing time or is it killing me?
alysha-l-scott
Written by
alysha-l-scott
American
Aug 14, 2012
Aug 14, 2012 at 12:17 AM UTC
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