Old Honey Hole
A good thought conceived in the soil of positivity
making its way through shard and slag
finding its way home into the heart.
The slag is cleverly staggered and thickening.
Filled with thorns and horns and dirty rags.
The good thought forced to play pachinko
with a venomous society.
Battered, fanged, and chipped.
The good thought came to a ragged end.
Staggered into the old honey hole.
There wasn't much of anything left.
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