postcards

Fold over

Fold over in two.

Piece by piece.

Drop off slowly.

Into magnificent drops.

Deep in dark waters

Of turmoil

Add to the significance

Of the distant freshness

Awaiting

Awaiting

An answer

A fulfilment

Never been answered.

 

Society cream

In all  its glory

A dark magnificent pretence

A stage where puppets work

Night and day

To the anguish of its operator.

Never to back off and reaching to the top

Where no one belongs

Too many chocolates in the box

Of self hate and harm.

Why covered in dark clothes

To hide the true being or in fact to protect

From the evil eye of the glorious bastard

To love and hate

To pretend.

To want to need to desire

For whom

No material aim.