deepundergroundpoetry.com

thoughts on aging

 



the way the faces of
violets sneer looking
out of the vase

how rain is sandpaper
to the skin

that hope is the evilest
temptation conceived
of by God

turning over a new leaf
and finding the other
side dried and colorless

magic leaves the
eye and seeks youth
as it's nest

life mocks life,
a butterfly without
color...

flying in a curare
wind


Written by buddhakitty
Published
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