Sun baked or freeze dried
Three chances in a whirlwind
Diamond cutouts of a truth
Hidden in shade and uniformity
Jarred and jumbled bass, I understand
High and low intensities from in front
Flailing limbs I'll never get
somehow they all do
White lines solidifying dirty green
memories Childhood and stand tall
Individual isolation in a crowd
Pig parts and shoes in bread
Fizz topped with a cap
Falling with control, such clumsy grace
Love, hate, pride, certain failure
Let the game begin
1 comment:
Keep up the good work.
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