The Quest for an Abudance in Sunshine

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Tag: fucking poetry

Redhead’s Poetry: FUTURE CAR ACCIDENTS

I do not stop to hope, I stop
To hit the breaks and hear a screech
Of halt-like-waking-up
Too soon that the moon
Is still yawning. I do not stop to hope

That the cars could see me
From miles before, that accidents
Were meant to be like fate;
I stop and hear the car roar.

It’s thundering like an angry
Child-soon-to-be-running
In the streets, look both ways
Before

I go.

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January Wisftul

“And all men kill the thing they love.”
Oscar Wilde