The music died with wilted blades of grass.
Word-dust: wind-tossed the paper sand is spreading.
Like a Cyclops among the prose blessed
I am not lost, just choose to change the heading.
The world looks on but sees a land obsessed,
by word games and enjambment convolutions.
A banjo’s twang, harmonica - be blessed.
my blues are banned but i will find solutions.
The music died like wilted blades of grass
© Copyright: Athena, 2002
Свидетельство о публикации №102041300240
Свидетельство о публикации №102041300240
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