Should Have Run

A hunger that cannot be fed

by empty words in empty beds.

A litany of reprimands,

all firm resolve and weak demands,

(all crushed in desperate, wringing hands).

Translucent, vague, and fragile dreams,

a butterfly’s infected wings;

Through weeping fog and Spanish moss,

where bitter seeds

 bear withered crops.

Embraced as truth,

cast out, deceived-

what I had dreamed,

these lies believed,

Had nothing much to do with me,

just echoes from a distant drum

toward which I crawled

but should have run.


Author: moonmaenad

Unskilled Navigator of this ocean we call life..somebody throw me a lifejacket STAT…or a clever and friendly dolphin

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