Salutations to whoever may fall upon this post...
My hand itched to write & Ive re-written this post about 5 times : rust has become me.
So what I’ll do, seeing as I want to post something is to share an extract from an old poetry book of mine, when I breathed words.
I miss that old me, and pay homage to that “me” through this ( and promise to try revive that spirit in me once again ), hope you enjoy it :
Trapped’s the new in :
The new in I hear,
The latest trend everybody seems to have caught onto.
It’s become the epitome of suburbia who’ve become materially-claustrophobic.
It’s succumbed to being the adolescent’s idol, who’ve found solace in suicide.
It’s become the scapegoat for the creatively-challenged maniacs.
It’s befriended straightjackets and has found companionship with muzzles.
Oh, it’s reigned tyranny at every successful coup.
It’s become a sanctuary for the silent,
and is viewed as a fiend by the free.
