Show Time

When the whole falls apart
Big pieces disintegrate
Into small
Painting a rusty art
Is it the hand of fate
Brushing all
Is swirling in a stormy wake
Maelstrom mail storms rage & brake
Breaking news is dim at dawn
Stick figures on pages drawn
& quartered into tiny bits
So pass that spliff & take some hits
It isn't science rocket
Just so you know
Big money in the pocket
Nothing but show

Poetry by Chaucer Whethers The PoetBay support member heart!
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Written on 2022-03-18 at 15:42

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one trick pony The PoetBay support member heart!
the holy modal rounders got it right
i hear their echoing refrain in your lines