WINE AND GATES
Risen With The Day, Fallen By The Neglect
the toll
been to ink, the bowl
and the wilting smile of steam, wool
is ever but a meager clock mocked, the woods for the owl...
held and a same time to trying
as yesterday, the count of fastidious lips
again, the nerve of demonstration is for the fool, a lime
is as special as you want to make it, the throat for the eave sips
shame, like a long tea
past its time, or worth the swallow of ages
in the care of an infant, this house has a notoriety's flea
that says the tone of a new bell, are you ready for what rages?
penny exhausted, penny prime
the tale of a knowing need, in the marks that come
with a salt, the ridicule of other wise and another highs
to sit in the town pretty, to find in a fruit among
we dote, on the future
we note, the song of remembrance for a soul to string
a harp of solid gold, in the stir of fathoming a cure
for the sins of our fathers, our misery in view of since, the pause of entity
would you complete the verse in a belly of berries?
will this knuckle of sugar and ways with an arm, believe you?
if the some of cadence is with us in weal's of could, what harries?
the knowledge of complete inanity of courage, the start of somewhere who?
we all know the back of our hands, but have you seen the yearning truth?
in many folds and the salute of conscience for consciences sake
made like a fine lip of senses never known, we remember the gifts of youth
and the ache of a feint hope in the driven minds we keep, to make...
living with the sorts
of crushes of existence, for the price of earnestnesses reason or dime
where have the continued kinds and reality of finds, been or worth
the liberty in a knuckle and the cant of what was fates time...
been to ink, the bowl
and the wilting smile of steam, wool
is ever but a meager clock mocked, the woods for the owl...
held and a same time to trying
as yesterday, the count of fastidious lips
again, the nerve of demonstration is for the fool, a lime
is as special as you want to make it, the throat for the eave sips
shame, like a long tea
past its time, or worth the swallow of ages
in the care of an infant, this house has a notoriety's flea
that says the tone of a new bell, are you ready for what rages?
penny exhausted, penny prime
the tale of a knowing need, in the marks that come
with a salt, the ridicule of other wise and another highs
to sit in the town pretty, to find in a fruit among
we dote, on the future
we note, the song of remembrance for a soul to string
a harp of solid gold, in the stir of fathoming a cure
for the sins of our fathers, our misery in view of since, the pause of entity
would you complete the verse in a belly of berries?
will this knuckle of sugar and ways with an arm, believe you?
if the some of cadence is with us in weal's of could, what harries?
the knowledge of complete inanity of courage, the start of somewhere who?
we all know the back of our hands, but have you seen the yearning truth?
in many folds and the salute of conscience for consciences sake
made like a fine lip of senses never known, we remember the gifts of youth
and the ache of a feint hope in the driven minds we keep, to make...
living with the sorts
of crushes of existence, for the price of earnestnesses reason or dime
where have the continued kinds and reality of finds, been or worth
the liberty in a knuckle and the cant of what was fates time...
Comment On This Poem ---
Risen With The Day, Fallen By The Neglect
Risen With The Day, Fallen By The Neglect
