Poetry ~ Digest Number 69

Image for the poem ~ Digest Number 69

by Omega Maverick on 2014/04/22

Apparitions speak by floor creak.
I, feel sound in my resolve.

World views,
Skin blues,
Everyone seething about discolored hues.

Intensely internal automation…

With each dilation I see, blind eyes.
A coffin full of hallow words.

I, sever contentment.
Choose enlightenment.

Scattered views,
People dedicated to disadvantages of deserving.

Ripped away from comfort. Denial.
Becoming, again animals to be kept at bay.

I, dart from sight or face the hunger of the pack?

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