Checking the box.
Freeing the locks.
It's time for the Wisdom to Rise.
School of hard knocks.
The hand of a slighty fox.
Come now child,
We have heard the cries.
Hold onto your socks.
The system gets shocked.
And falls to its greatest demise.
Pandora's Box.
Freed from the locks.
It's time for the Queens to Rise.
Give it a few knocks.
The jig of a fox.
No longer a reason to cry.
Filling big socks.
Elevation that shocks.
What do you call a system
That predicts its own demise?
~Introverted Sage~
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Author:
Introverted Sage (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: April 12th, 2023 14:41
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 4
- Users favorite of this poem: Bobby O
Offline)
Comments1
What do you call that system ?
Nice piece
I'd call the system... 'unfortunately troubled'.
Thank you!!
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