6 ene 2017, 19:54

bar scribbles 

  Poesía » Verso libre
928 0 0

patterns in patterns
emotional chatters
none of it matters
as the mind scatters

 

instinctive desires
of unwitting liars

 

the genuine's end
none left to mend

 

you can hear
many a word dear
but what do they mean?

nothing, it would seem

 

like a waking dream
illusion all it seems

 

a beautiful mirage
or a ghastly visage

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