we could all see how might


we could all see how might
was sword and seasoned love
soaring through the sun's slant
with a definite choice
rolling the world before it

there is no fissure gaping
but a mere question
of humanity
the ponytailed Indian
a faint curtain movement

a blue man sides with money
a red man sees a world
where there is no money
an impossible trust
piped to all days

synapses sparkling
dark gem going mad
at every turn
your hands are put
in veracity's opportunity

who is skulking lurching
feeding on the wrong wire
igniting every corner
with hard envy
playing another tune




Poetry by Bob
Read 758 times
Written on 2014-09-13 at 17:15

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This one says so much! Another bookmark.
2014-09-13