TRUTH PROWLS

Bedraggled and lonely

Gently gnawing nails

they sit on a heap of refuse

THEY — called by many

A wacky tale-bearer

 

Now

The cord of time stretches

Speech is let loose

Truth prowls

 

Hear the traffic

In falsehood cease

Hear marooned voices

Despair

 

…shh! Listen!

◄ PULSATIONS

Comments

<Deleted User> (5552)

Sun 29th Dec 2013 07:06

Thx for your comment Gray

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Gray Nicholls

Fri 27th Dec 2013 11:35

can relate to the bit about marooned voices here, justin but the shortness of the stanzas really hit me. good stuff.

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