The ghost seeks despair
Into the lights of ears
Sparkling like a two moon dance
Waiting for its enchanting romance
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The bird hauls the wind along
Giving a leave the soft touch
Bracing its entire day
Changing the notes
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The rat smiles for a brief
As he smuggles
A chalk to teach
For the little one awaits
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Taking the deep breath
Falling through the bed
Hitting my head on the floor
I meant to leave all behind
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1 comments:
Be it ghosts, or the soft touch, one can be sure of a few things.
One would be the condition of brain waves at the time of constructing such an orgy.
Secondly, the resilience of our mediocre thoughts being underpinned with a certain kind of liberal-assault.
It's deep-seated into our cerebral cortex, where even the tiniest noogie springs myriad jousting.
Cheers.
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