Untitled
I sometimes feel like the razor sharp
of a bean tins'e edge
may one-day be my best friend,
I hate to feel like my venom,
can only be drained away
as I sleep well past Mid-day.
I hate the sight of red,
but its not instantaneously,
I lose so much as I bleed,
Its taking like a fasting,
I don't wish for pro-longed
of another sad radio song.
I still have those flash backs,
my sweet devoted dotting Auntie,
Why did you so abandon me?
You loved me more than maternal
of once born and its now dead central.
Copyright © Ryan Geoffrey Hayward | Year Posted 2025
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