I write to recover

Truth Blooms

a strewth sleuth of truths Twice told Only one to  realize They lied to is yourself. Grappled thoughts hazed out of  all sincerity Twice them gamblers cast away all integrity A dire dice reveals fear & loathing tosser going for a price Lost to waging another wank with nirvana. Times now? Perhaps thrice. Witness these winners Outlining unspoken words ratified a squeaky line of cheese Exiled A meta-more selfish imitable of an  Ovidian Kafkas. Sniffing  bloody bursts of  betrayal A mass Carcass cordoned off by pissing yellow tape. Not a John Doe – Fate confirms But your own star crossed lover. Two tall tale tellers serve hyperbole on the gossip scene — Two punks who ain't true to punk for the right reasons. Caricatures emulate the shadow of these Proud louts. Halve these egoistical errors- Blunted knives These Terrorists clothed in night sheets — stark nude Wanton to retire for a brief interlude A lie down. Sleuth blooms an alternative truth.

All poems are copyright of the originating author. Permission must be obtained before using or performing others' poems.

Do you want to be featured here? Submit your profile.


No comments posted yet.

If you wish to post a comment you must login.

This site uses cookies. By continuing to browse, you are agreeing to our use of cookies.

Find out more Hide this message