Petrol
The butterflies appear whenThe time is warm and bright.
No flutterings on grey days allowed
You say. As I walk away and cannot
Look around me for technicolour
Moments mothed mutely so grey
I see petrol in a puddle.
You are blinded with stupidity.
You have no use of hues.
You use petrol for A to B
Poetry by jenks
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Written on 2010-05-18 at 01:51
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