deepundergroundpoetry.com

Disguised Lights - III

I havenít seen in months, months
What the rest of the world calls
The Sun.

Strange, tainted chemicals in my brain
Hardwired, feeds an image ofó
 † † What scientific filament
 † † Meanders trapped in
 † † A little glass bowl
 † † With a flick of a switch
 † † Turns day into day
 † † Fakes night into day
 † † And Iím happy as a drone
 † † If only until the wear of flight
óthe Sun.

I dare not leave by decree of my
Homemade devil. So, I havenít seen
In months, months
 † † (Other than magic of a filament)
What the rest of the world calls
The Sun.
Written by Bricoleur
Published
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