Tuesday, February 7, 2012

The fallout



who is to call black from white
when all you see is grey.
serpentine clouds loom
as your own work a concoction
meant to settle all that is not.

its an orchestra
of bitterness and sours
that tasted need not be
and found.

underground caverns
sound your squalid whispers that suffocate to null
before they find an ear.  Cowardice!


You were better, maybe worse
who can say?
when all you see is grey.