Poetry - Prince And His Frevor

Pixel Density

PixelDensity

I brought a ring for my index finger because I know it doesn't take a fool to ponder my wonder, a large pearl on its center it takes away the sad exterior—shameless blunder , Now I cry every time I see a ring that's not meant for me, it will never be, cursed to be, I  wouldn't even marry me.

It's says "rejection is redirection" a configuration of sensations that felt like it's meant to be. My friend became curses— your ends in the slowest of leaves from the oleander pinks–from its ends and from the depths of its rivulets of its deceit.

With the honors, salutatorians and the practioners who claimed their degrees, came a breath, not cause of safety nor ease, Clean of paperwork's yet not of assurity, that one's maturity matches one of the nineties, when people were forced to take stands when no one could clear the world of distant fog and scarcities, and understand the epilogues of our memories when no one could remember the way it changed me, Some swans songs of denouement and mystery, unknowing of my own ninny.

Then watch their society be cursed by forthcoming prophecies, I don to be crestfallen on my knees begging for salvatonary for me only, but I'll do so for everybody, what would you rather see on the tv?,  would you settle for an apple over a set of gold teeth, mooncakes and clearer pixel density?