Woke up this morning with this poem almost perfectly clear in my head – including the title. Clearly, the UK elections are getting to me… and my optimism is at an all-time low.
don’t you see
your words rain blows
but mean aught to me.
through your filthy mind
thrashing legs, crawl to stay alive
to others your story might still
turn inside out and confess.
But every drivel
you let slip out
lacks movement, light and substance,
there’s only shadow in your clout.
I’m linking this to Open Link Night over at dVerse Poets Pub. Come and see what our poets are up to when there are no constraints on their imagination!