Numbness bleeds like passion, alive trying
Survival like the kind of note you hear, just
Between an A and A sharp, a bloody train
Spout spurting coal into air black, compressed
Future shunned, shares magnetic trails over uplifting
Veils, rails one does mention, common causeways
National interests and ideas that are alone always
I wonder, is this my clone, then why so detached
You know better, your throne, most do, I cycle through
Lonesome, care hushed into words, "Lush!" ...I'm sure
I haven't been attached to that one person score, in ages
Spent, ramble on like the rose in the cement, carried rushed
To the florist cut and now half bent with lifeless taste
Memories still hold like encased glass, encased fate.
Christopher Baird 2012 ©
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