Bloody Awful Poetry
Copyright© 2024 by A funny bowl of custard
Chapter 16: Redacted
Shredded paper falls from the sky
Trapping me within
As black seas turn white
And ringing phones attempt to pry
Into the single slow second of solace allowed in my skin
In my mind’s plight
In celluloid vision
It would be raining
As gutter hung prisms
Are seen by the craning
As I mourn the loss
Blue collar man
Off on a toss
Since he had no plan
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