Because I am not much than a leaf

I write, and engineer thoughts in my head

a realm of constructed matrix with TV ads, and Love making scenes

when the hazel escapes the eyes in my socket it seeps into the mind

where the ladies always have hazel in their hairs

I rhyme, and construct the lines that try to do

both exhibit the blackness and the whiteness of my mind

and I try to contrast that to those that have

both white hairs and black hairs in their heads

And I believe I am a mere leaf,

falling from a branch unknown

of which i have lost my sight

and the tide of gravitational pulls that fight with the restless air

I twist in disgust at first

but then enjoy my ride

I am a flicker, sicker than yellow balloons trying to spew yellow fluids

I write,  am a leaf on the endless stream of possibility

confused about my reflection,

but more about the stream itself.


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