Blue

Blue said to green

I’m keen.

How about you?

I’m through

fighting askew

picking up the pieces

of an experiment

not true.

But now I’ve found

the way ahead

is not by bread

alone.

People are waiting

outside your door

at your beck and

call

to suture your

wounds

blood & all.

If breath still

flows from your

head to your toes

little workers will

set you right until

your tight, man,

tight.

Not blue.

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Categories: creative writing, Poetry, Uncategorized | Leave a comment

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