Poetry

See No Evil

There is a wolf in the sky
In truth, there are two
Both purple and black
as a bone break bruise

It is not rain they bring
Nay, a far harder thing
is loosed

But what does it matter?

What use making a show?

The abused and the tattered
already know and the
ignorant
choose
to remain so

Both eyes tightly closed

Categories: Poetry

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