Strangeness.
Look.
Look around.
What the hell.
What’s
going on?
Accepting
what’s
seen,
what’s said.
Flicker
of existence.
Firefly flash.
What’s
the point?
Screaming
headlong.
Coming
then going.
Doing what’s
told, expected.
Rules.
What rules?
Who’s rules?
Vicious
vile
little creatures.
Thrashing
in the
muck.
Looking
for the
edge.
Swampy
reality.
Sticky gooey
mess.
-
Author:
John Prophet (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: April 10th, 2021 06:53
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 13
- Users favorite of this poem: rebmasters
Offline)
Comments2
Sometimes the rules are wrong and need changing then one can climb out of the swamp.
Andy
Thanks Andy for all your comments
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