deepundergroundpoetry.com
living in the shadows
even if one could travel-one would remain in the shadows; flying high as a kite, in the night skies....and the music one's tuned into, is all that matters....
the violins, harps, pianos-the trumpets, percussion, and saxes.... pit stop for meals-worth while reason for landing....
there's no where else to go; nothing really else to do; one's in a constant state of dream; something more celestial....
because the grounds on which one knew-brought discontent that only grew....
Published 1st Dec 2023
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