new turn

people are pure surprise

perhaps this is why we socialize

and flagrantly fluff our feathers at one another

a drunkards dream is never what it seems

the tales are woven before we weave another element has passed between these lips

and memories of innocence fade into the mist

the fog holds some heavy merit

as we unfold the nibs of our pens

our papers wit inherits

oh such blasphemy as this

one word turns another

and the story unfolds

flowers to the May parade

girls in white dresses

and such things are mere charades

you and I have been through this

and rather then address

we still regress

i will play at loves ardor again

until you beckon at my door

upon wounded knee with flowers

and remorse.


About binaryLady

Front-End Wiz and Full stack developer

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