Of Air
An impostor in a mirror made of airComposed of lies with vacant eyes
Speaks as though no one is there
Billions bend toward the end of here
And now
The rivers bow in backwards flow
Somehow
False is bold truth to be told
Time collapses getting old
Bells broken dully rung
Snakes and ladders are hung
Around the necks of headless boxes
Henhouse feeding feckless foxes
Reeks as though no one were there
Composed of lies with vacant eyes
An impostor in a mirror made of air
Poetry by Chaucer Whethers
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Written on 2021-09-03 at 00:03
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