Brass Dreams Poem by Max Buchanan
Brass Dreams
This place which I did fear has come home
And thusly my false grip slipped away
Wrenched astray
Love fell grazed and turned to war
And churned out all our bitter flaws
Fell to rotting aged floorboards
My truth has grown frail and sailed to a place with
no brass dreams hammered with hate
Endlessly the flow
Endlessly in droves
Endlessly my unwound threads all sewn
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5/2/2024 5:31:54 AM # 1.0.0.1119
