*Trigger warning*extremely disturbing*
With my rainy eyes glistening. I stood by the shelf selecting lemons. A man traded his khaki pants for a pair of suit. For the sake of democrat's shoes he ditched his jack boots.
He stumbled in an attempt to walk in them. The store had no spare, he remained in them.I held the lemon in my hand to my nose and inhaled deeply it's sweet scent. I knew it will not make orange juice. In February the man was celebrated. Each time a voice or a hand was raised in protest. We heard: "bam, boom, blam, ka-blam pop!" Sometimes bodies dropped.
Then a voice said to me "don't you see a lemon can never make palatable orange Juice.
YOU ARE READING
A DOSSIER OF WORDS
PoetryChoice words sewn together to create astonishing pieces, they describe feelings, situations, nature and experiences. Dear readers, and this is a WIP, please bear with me. I edit as I write. Book cover credit: Desygner thank you for a great book cov...
