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Questions? I Have None

I thank those twinkling gods,
of stars and sod,
for the truth they hid from me,
 that i might see the right way to falsity,
falsehood?
manhood?
who could?
I would,
ask everyday,
for them to pay,
 the price in pounds,
for every sound,
they stole from me,
that night beneath,
 the wooden beams,
just a them and a him,
a few feet from the gym quietly exploring each other.
Written by HedonsHerald (Alexander Johnson)
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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