Here are some poems, composed by a puppet,

some are my own and some of them not.

You can like one, or quite like them all,

or simply not like them a hell of a lot.


x



Wednesday, 18 January 2012

Frozen Through.

standing over glacial space
mutely reaching to embrace.
heads hung, coldly conceiving
the kinetic absence
of a still hole filled in.
missed gurgling of good times gone,
faded now the star's gone on.
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