Nonsense

Declare me as nonsense, Your deaf-eared head shaking unstrung with disorder dusty cobwebs of bent thoughts --and a paltry two cents (I know what you really mean though) “my $0.02 > your $0.02” Truly rich men need not admit such fears, for their wallets only open less the close minded Our solace seems born between the dark and the day, beneath the fullest of moons =spun of white silk and dust But today's clay breaks asunder-- Blank checks like yester's echoes painting freedoms amongst the longest halls each hardwired in a plethora of words ending in some form, of hateful [-ism] Yet I manage to only hear one voice the voice that tells me to be kind with my rage-- to rip the paint from the walls with talons draped in silk to dine alone on these sharp tasting thoughts of vengeance One rose with a hundred sharpened thorns, my mind blooms-- and forgotten be the thoughts that deny my good sense, to only listen to your two July 26, 2016