A HUNDRED POEMS – 072

my death(sentence) –> dies
singularly learned (stiff)necks)
scrutinized by prose(police)
a formality of academically
dusty halls; the light that
never falls —-
but my prose-eat sunlight
unstructured for the soul!

:: 06-12-2013 ::
E.P. Robles (c) 2019

About EPRobles

Writer, Artist. I like to paint abstract acrylic images onto canvas. I love to read everything, and I especially enjoy science, philosophy, and the arts. I'm new to the blog experience and I very much enjoy it! I hope to learn as much about all the features that WordPress offers and thank you -- my visitor -- for taking time to read my words. Peace and love... View all posts by EPRobles

You must be logged in to post a comment.

%d bloggers like this: