Demons roll the dice
that fall around our lives.
Angels vigorously flap their wings
to better our depressing odds.
Men are but noisy mice
as goblins throw knives,
cutting opportunity's strings
as peers applaud.
Spirits dive for the blades,
protecting delicate strands
that fate has lightly woven
as cackles shake the stars.
The golden edges are frayed
as we make last stands
against what others have chosen
to be our sour scars.
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Sitting Here Thinking (2020-2022)
PoetryPoetry of varying subjects and construction, the second of three. Written while sitting anywhere, lost in thought about everything and anything. Accolades: #1 Thought Provoking 2/26/2020 #1 Self-Reflection 3/22/2020 #1 Creative Writing 7/24/2020 #3...
