Take pause,
& still be consistent.
Consider nature’s
situations, citizens
& cities
This prose be
growin’ old
where’s the
magic pill with the
magic cloak
to help me heal
& cope,
through the
conundrums
that’s cauterized
the good depths
of my soul
The Trash Heap
would be proud
of this collection
of deception
you call yourself a poet
that’t the biggest
fallacy yet.
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