Monday, 18 May 2015

Don't drown in its place

As the lark screams maday,
You rally in its fumes,
Dancing in its hum
Stuck to its Melancholy.
As it cries it's saddness
And Forms a puddle,
It then turns in to a lake,
But Finally decides to shrugg,
Leave the rubble,
you take its place,
Drown in its lake.

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