New Work in Progress A poem I am working on.
Upon
to
Pounce and too
Devourer
"A Dream is A Terrible Thing!"
How Many Visions have I released?
How many have crept in and out of your befuddled minds?
Why have I wasted my Precious Time?
Three Four One
For every hour that I proceeded
Three little One's were Lost
My life of Vanity came at such a great cost
No Heavenly Treasures were yet sown
As my Father tossed skeems and dreams at me
These breadcrumbs succumb
As when or if they are tossed at the birds
I treated the Manna as the feathered beasts
I like them left only turds upon the ground
Mushy wet and messy; crumbs no longer found
Because I succumbed
To the whispering of and from
The leathery winged demons
of this
Our Earth
Their leader of their insidious pact
My subtle elder now our brother lost
Such music whispered upon my ears
But only once; yet still their soundings brought me tears
Daze and Confused yet only bruised
I settled when these resistors settled in
They magnified every single doubt within an with out
Melted about; defecated icing to top the cake
They decided they too; would try to train my brain
As did they the crabs from escaping their traps
These my Brothers not lost and yet not forgot
Kept me within their pot
How many chances would I have got?
Farther down the line there would be no more Time
No more wine
No more divine
I knew these things too!
And yet wasted I all kines their dreams and skeems
The very ones even I myself
Dreamed and than waited
Upon
to
Pounce and too
Devourer
A Thought from Sinbad the Sailor Man
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