lemon flower

presence is an ever-changing
state of dusky
semi-darkness; death
lurks in the shadows;
death lurks in the light;
pocketfuls of lemons
and sugar coated fleur de lys
concentrate on sneers
and backstabbing human;
life is sour and acidic
when new year’s day
makes little sense and
the birthday song
only brings you closer
than ever before
to your last thought
about this ever-growing,
ever-present, enveloping
pointless surreality.

T. E. Pyrus


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