Predicament

Predicament

A Poem by Witty Fay

Let me feel that love of yours
In fall colour.
You, me, two distant hours
Of the same agnostic clock,
Like some painting that never
Unfolds to the greedy eyes,
On a daylong whole 
Of trivial colourings
And the smell of the ruins 
In the taffy glass
-Oh, water is never on shortage
Of drops here-
So I feel its sourness through 
The n*****s of the day,
While working on a potent magic
Of autumnal eminence.

© 2014 Witty Fay


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Added on September 16, 2014
Last Updated on September 16, 2014

Author

Witty Fay
Witty Fay

Paris, France



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Poetry is my compass. more..

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