Low Life what is there in this, this infamous exile Glory perception is a sun confusing the shadow it casts as the light it constantly spreads To Sing What am I? Nothing to anybody... I am surprise A string receptive to all vibrations The Process Using intuition, And Manipulation of Writing object, I send a piece Of myself Forward In time Mirror too faint to be an old ghost too quiet to be alive
5 SHORT POEMS – MARCH 2021
