Saturday, March 2, 2013


Living with scruples is an un
Easy truce gleaning substance
From the shadows becomes a
Nagging existence a witness
To things done in the darkness
As well as those visible in the
Light living within an anxious
Mood sharing olden secrets
Splayed open like unraveled
Nerves susceptible to every
Influence & atmosphere to
The words spoken & those
That get swallowed choked
Down with bitter medicines
To help abide the things that
Never dissipate or dissolve
Peeking around curtains of
Moon illuminating snow
Reflecting the cold


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