Trying To Give God a Headache
What words would adorn
That sleepless life
to show what once was
Some would leave their lovers wisp
Some paste date and time
A line of prose
poisoned by the reader
A stolen angel facade
A dusty name
So my words upon my grave
I have narrowed to the two
either
Sorry
or
Dont turn round
Copyright © Christopher Quigley | Year Posted 2019
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