 |
| anonymous street art (possibly faith47), Woodstock, Cape Town |
Is there a second spectre,
A third, a fourth,
Now that I have exposed The Slavedriver:
Had he sent a hidden slave
Directed to my Fall,
A smiling knave presenting bowls of
Days of Later, Just Now, Some Other Time
Tearing me away?
Sociopath
Sociopath
They called me, without
Fully considering the meaning of their word
They forgot that by excluding me
They were excluding one possibility.
And now a final death or two to
Heal all injury incurred, to
Close all doors
To visions of bridges violently,
Brightly burned
Can still smell the smoke
But lessons are learned
No comments:
Post a Comment