So dark in the sky
We absorb numb weirdness above the flowers
Zounds! The day will come
Strange and splintering above the grave
I grasp black tomb stones near the air
Atone! The end was hard
Totally numb before the dream
You examine humming inspirations below the water
Alass! The stink is coming
scared alive
never meeting
an old passport
With what memories
the lost man
forget to go home
unable to stop
YOU ARE READING
Incoherent Poetry
PoetryPoetry that serves to clash tonally and ideally with the objective that a new tone, genre, or coherency (some semblance of sense at all) can be made from throwing different ideas together in a bizarre gathering of words.
