
I’m crafting out lines, curious & new
Writing these rhymes rare & distinguished
I’m waxing on poetic, warming her through
Turns out; I’m quite the cunning linguist
I’m crafting out lines, curious & new
Writing these rhymes rare & distinguished
I’m waxing on poetic, warming her through
Turns out; I’m quite the cunning linguist
The clouds descend upon us
Stress compounding at this time of year
Getting darker as the days build
Waxing upon the fruition of fear
This world is a bloody hell
A disaster proven before the ink dries
Scorn for a distant foundation
Futility in which all hope slowly dies
The darkness returns
Looking for a story to wryly begin
Miscommunications falter
& I wade through my vermouth & gin
Image by Peggy und Marco Lachmann-Anke from Pixabay