Devices 24A Poem by John24
Was a singular enterprise.
White was the colour of their lies. A world without appellation Registering the loss of function. The doves, the eagles and the larks, The fingers mime quotation marks. While something, somewhere, somehow flies Into the space once called the skies. © 2019 John |
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Added on July 30, 2019 Last Updated on August 1, 2019 Author |