deepundergroundpoetry.com

the sound of one hand clapping

 
 
man is soaked to
his rimy bones w/
deceit, jealousy  
and rage
 
our hearts and  
hands are empty  
as we chase dreams
that taste like  
sand
 
then complain
that we are
choking
Written by buddhakitty
Published | Edited 29th Sep 2019
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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