Monday, April 24, 2017

Question: Poetry time?!?

The mirror withers
I'm tossed at night by unseen forces
The dead are speaking in familiar tongues
And this is the best time there has ever been

Truth lies like heavy rocks beneath the dying grass
The dream is spreading unannounced
The water line is higher, and sustenance easier to find
But they scream as if the world is dying

It has always been up to us
Our own happiness and the greater good
These things never left our sight
We let them close our eyes to it all

Short Answer: The Bawling Wheel

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