My messes are an ominous landscape
that sheds its dignity
time and time again
in the saddest of all colors.
If I were crafted more finely,
with an ear for creaky voices,
then surely I'd have recognized
the truth
if it were told.
But lately I find too crafty
the immense portrait
of each day
that lands itself upon me
every time
I lose a dream.
Author notes
Sucks but oh well.
But now that
I have
Well?
Comments
-
somehow the idea of finding the day an immense portrait, ablbeit a "too crafty" one, is funny or charming. Messes shedding dignity I also like and relate to.
-
-
Thank you
-
Adding your comment:
