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Image for the poem Clay Palette

Clay Palette

Lies come in too many colors,
blue is green and green is blue…
They all run together in the dark.
Maybe I’m just color blind.

Rock-a-bye beneath the pines,
too dark to hang a moon.
Never grows a branch of lies,
sacred places heal the wounds.

Wise old owl and his
naked, bottomless question
with too many answers…

I have questions too




Written by Kasai
Published
Author's Note
Artwork by Reivax LA PENSEUSE (2014)
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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