charcoal black pavement cuts cracks
right through the earth
and through my world
metal sky scrapers
not even touching the sky
enclosing me in a reality
i do not want
and there you are
a framework of January and April
months of hard work and planning
and painting
and painting
and painting
until you were perfect
YOU ARE READING
n o n s e n s e
Poetrya collection of nonsense poems that mean a lot to me, and nothing to most.
