Fear is to tangles, no out
Fear is to tangles, no out-
Brain high, mired up.
Face HIGH, Breath HIGH, Thoughts HIGH-
When TALK, You Get TALKED.
Minus the Gratitude, Birth the MAD-
When sight Rich, comes the END of the BAD.
Down in the blue and green, why?
The Path seems vanished, but extant.
Fear is to tangles, no out-
Attachments area
This poem is about:
Me
My community
Our world
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: