Silence sounds too much like you’ll be going;
Peace preys like a wolf longing for the hunt,
Serenading mocking love fragments from the past.
Autumn songs, once hidden like stars during light,
Return to the desert after summer blends into fall,
Bring winter’s chaos as if thunder in spring’s soul.
Swimming in a Van Gogh joy and red cosmic dreams,
I never wished for your hand-me-down dreams,
Your washed-out, washed-up, rented future for one.
Hail the part-time dreamer, the full-time idiot,
The lover who came with no warnings,
Conceding to counterfeit honesty……..
All Rights Reserved