A Place Not Meant To Be: 09
#9: Days of Paper Roses
Do the numbers--dogs don't count--just survives!
Then everything, be as close enough, still,
of this and that, thoughts begin and end, thrives,
truth betold, none were measured boundless will.
There's a bold statement, typed on front pages,
rolled off the presses, just to impress us,
splashed inklings midst papered, of such phrases,
... rolled and impressed, settles the dust--minus.
High-topped towers, the light of day, shadows,
thought-filled days, wages paid by subscribers,
of The Times, Gazettes, or Tribune Heralds,
flighters, fighters, there too were paid--writers.
Dawn paper rolls, notepads ... night closes,
they blossomed they did like rows of roses.
Copyright ©
Hilo Poet
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