Poetry

Does the fantasy That resides Inside your head, Keep you from having To face the dread Of an empty existence? ...

The child without an anchor Flies free into the face Of a brick wall. ...

We tore at the tether because we wished to free. ...

Athena speaks in mixed Messages and metaphors. ...

Sometimes, our best thought through plans go astray. ...

In the cold light of day you keep me there beside you in a Glass by the bed. ...

A state of mind Where images and perceptions Appear as shards of glass. ...

He kept us intrigued; With wise words and false wisdom. ...

There is nothing new to be said; Nothing cleaver to be read. All creativity is rendered dead. Nothing left – but this silly little verse, Inside my head. Please “Shut Up”!

A shimmer through the glass in keeping with the lateness -of the day. ...