The Would-Be Was

November 11, 2014

Spinning around,
The full-fledged ground.
An earthen vessel’s dripping

And the puddles that ensue,
The blue,
Is all but penny-flipping.

Don’t even try
To siege a sigh
Or conquer withal crying…

I starkly recall
A day sooo tall
It seemed to me a’flying.

Smart, it does
The would-be was,
But every evil dying

Is another stitch
In the glove.
So rich!
A victory for love.

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