Thursday, June 16, 2011

untitled 2

old gold molds
watch it unfold to a crumble
in the bumble bee tumble
through the rumbling of rubble
busy breaking into bits
fizzy falling into fits

the dream was
a buzz on a high mountain
powerful wings
stinging to keep the top
you should have seen them all
drop like flies
having tried the climb
to share the air
'
in the end, a
how dare
you

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