![]() In False SpiritsA Poem by Cobblestone Traveler![]() A perspective of the portion of believers who won't allow themselves to be human![]() In a buzzing world of crates on pulleys Constantly lifting our pain out of frame If we can raise it high enough above us We can deny its ever present power! Never you mind my shaking arms Focus instead on my flat, pasted smile Just slather the heart with this topical salve Our medication of perceived benevolence I may be ripping apart from the inside out But I'm far too blessed to be stressed © 2017 Cobblestone TravelerAuthor's Note
|
Stats
177 Views
Added on April 24, 2017 Last Updated on April 24, 2017 Author
|