Yellowed Fences

Unpublished pieces


She walked across the floor, upbeat lady in solemn clothes.
I lost innocence with her. Fragmented pictures of colours
long since dissolved into ambiguities of grey
She left me, though she stays.
She collects my hurt in her hands and
throws it back at me.
Dripping sonic flames of yesterday views that
parade themselves as disaster.
I feel my heart flying into a thousand different
jars where I can hold each thought in a memory.
There is a sound that I cannot face
It is electric hate spewed ever fresh upon
the yellowed fences of backyard lawyers
creating laws inside their pathetic layers
of mis-used Parliaments.
What is going on?
I can explain but I cannot understand
this  growth that festers powerfully upon
my limping brain.
She laughs. That is her way.
"Leave me alone" she says
"I am yours but you are not mine"
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