stolen days




who sells the day,
with battered smile,
no cream here,
 or custard while,
the baby rocks herself with tears,
the adults eat up all their fears,
 with knife and fork you ask? Of course,
of course,
I say of course,
for truths lie lame and loose their course,
and shadows simply shiver,
let me paint you an Island of you plus one,
a seascape for gems unfounded
, with rivers crystal iced with blue,
let us step away from your 24


Comments

Popular posts