courtesy Benjamin Earwicker
My inspiration left...
Left me with burnt out flecks
Flecks that exuded retreat
Retreating
victim of war in the battle to find heat
Heat that was drained from cold faces
Faces claiming bodies
Bodies rearranged into people
Disgraces
Projecting outward personas
Mismatched to reality’s musty aroma
Unequipped to change their
Vile ways
Though aging
Lips curled,
wrinkling
preaching that
taking flight
means you’re diseased
just
because
They are still
Wingless doves trapped
In unfortunate cages.
My Inspiration: Times Long Gone
© KohylahPiper 2016
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