Poetry -Present

A screeching lamb on the late night tram
Not the mere 3:13am or 8:28 pm 
Rather the touch of an ill-favoured alluring scam
 
Mellow as the bleeding marionette with a guitar-strummed sonnet
Heavenly as weaving absolute vodka into the Werther-themed opera
Exquisite as binging 99% dark chocolate naked at mid-night tasting nothingness in bites
Brutal as the dark sunrise’s insomniac alarm and its excruciating charm
Numb until consciousness re-appears like murderous reindeers
 
Seal the foreign arid throat with some unused wooden craze
Bury the quickening footsteps with one eerie killing embrace
How the good old forever stayed among the delicate haze 
Without the goddamn guilt-filled government-funded charity race
 
12/08/2016 05:30am
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