Poetry

Crying on a Sour Cherry Honeycomb

I want to run up the stairs with grand determination

Just like rocky balboa did before losing a good fight

I want to pump my hands up in the air and cry a good fit

I sigh, for at the end of it all I just want to cry

 

And I just wanted to state that

 

I want it to be known

I want it to be felt

I wanted to plant a seed

Of sour cherries on a honeycomb

 

To wake up from this nightmare is my fondest wish

To pierce the veil can be my biggest threat

To fondue the brain, will be my kitchen confidential

To my dispirited soul I advise, that this too shall piss away

 

Back to a sleep

of a thousand

red poisoned apples I go

 

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