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If soul has to question ones loyalty,
perhaps it's time to throw out a rotten prince of royalty,
no cures exist of spoil-ty,
speech... pricks conjure up is mere moiety,
tricks of trade beat head against abrasive wall noisily;
spin round fast within toiletry,
out one goes as lone soul fills lung of glee,
travel farther & absent minded from me;
time bares not a friend to make wait,
view own values to truly appreciate,
bargaining does nothing, yet... dissipate,
before eyes shade,
one foots fluffing ground of grave.
YOU ARE READING
Between Actuality & a Psychotic Embrace
PoetryA collection of my own combined styles of - Macro Poetry & QuoteArt, which = MacQuote Poetry. I will try my best to have new additions every week from my on-going-twisted-love-affair of writing poetry. For all the support and encouragements you al...
