S CLAWSA Poem by G
out of phase
out of focus pressure building fading nightmares turn to reality searching seeking the world is flat creeping peeking over the precipice fog in the fog a chessboard the stairs lead up into nothingness the untenable position the walls are closing up or down a man in a red suit has a bag on his shoulders bringing gifts of tormented souls © 2009 G |
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Added on December 24, 2009 Last Updated on December 24, 2009 AuthorGBrooklyn, NYAboutThey say there is a thin line between insanity and well, sanity, ha, ha fooled you, can't always anticipate the mind of a creator. more..Writing
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