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Image for the poem The Myer’s Collar

The Myer’s Collar

One mood hangs over him like a cloud of rain.
The prolific hollow stoic gaze.
In the mist of seasons in a crowd he walks.
Evidence shows there are people present but Michael stares alone.
Years pass and the motive burns the same never to become grown.
Aging his colors turn grey but the motive keeps him active.
Is it such a false tone to chase this history like it can be written?
ClearmindedVillain
Written by ClearmindedVillain
Published
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