nobody takes me seriously but i am the most serious person i know all i do is tell the truth... you would hope it would show but truths are lost in the lies of everyone else this time they will see! those villagers with their misdeeds they want there to be a wolf is it not enough? a boy crying? time to suicide by being eaten by this lustrous thing that doesn’t even exist the bleatings of a naked sheep just won’t be missed -especially when it’s cold- now if i could just find a wolf that would be so much better than clothing
Author: billyblumberg
The Great
I missed my train...
to the relief of its feigned interest.
The bullet being me and mine again.
Triggered by a chance for joy.
‘Tis such a small window unfit for man
who takes upon himself each splendid task
to give in halfway under and breathe in release
as heavier days save a moment for grief,
and wasting for hours each minute.
...now in my mind I sigh at found reasons
as seasoned swelling seas part ever slowly,
to the trumpet of a train later - slated for something,
and now the unknown is its goal again,
and now the unknown is its lantern.
And now my chariot’s a fleece,
as it dances a wolf in said clothing of sheep -
mannerisms telling - mine eyes who’ve wept
like little boys peeping at destiny swept,
somehow proud of their life nonetheless,
somehow still at wondering.
My chance to miss a train - hear doppler effect roar out like line’s brevity.
Dear to stay here amongst shooting stars where thunder so steadily waits,
glancing at the passing of cars - searching for another train… praying at the ready,
within a trance like a model invoking inception
and lurid diaries.
I chose to miss a train by tying my laces.
And chosen, the next one is mine… even if it has a distance to close.