Crushed
By Sprite
~~*~~*~~*~~ Starchy dreams of pale moon days Crimped into an apple pie crust, Like carelessly crushed crackers, Swept away and tossed in the trash. Made-up facial surface adornments Belie the turmoil inside my mind; Lies I tell to make things peaceful, I won't share the terror that's mine. Tangled twisted images of daylight Melt into a masterful creation of Frankenstein stomping on my brain, a Flesh toned agitation compilation, drained. Stirred to act upon life's broad stage, Spastic movements of yesterday's finds, Considered worthy spectacle for the masses, I present puppet dances of my wooden atrophied mind.Don't worry. I am fine. Just an exercise poem. My psych training is showing again. Written April 6th, 2002 © on Apr 06 2002 04:26 AM PST, Joyce 0 • 10
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