iscomfortzone

For every capricious child
There is no moral compass
The healing hand pushed away

These malevolent spirits
Traveling incognito
Hidden well behind the I's

Random singularities
Pulling out an existence      
From the slightest attentions
Brief intoxicant fixes

These busted knuckle divers
Conceal event horizons
From which there is no escape
Spaghettification kings

For every imploding star
seated on padded musroom
Another is hovering
Just beyond our blindered view

© P.M.H  2/07/21