Wednesday, 22 July 2015


I sit inside a darkened room
Surrounded by familiar gloom.
Under the door I see a crack,
But gusts of wind do blow it black.

Your face is not a mask removed,
But sketch all drawn with lines anew.
I see you form before my eyes;
A creature born of compromise.

Dichotomy of good and bad
Lies twisted in this selfish land
Where people live life to consume.
I sit here in my darkened room.

~ C. Spies

No comments:

Post a comment