Gardens In, The Men, Benign. Poem by Michael Gale

Gardens In, The Men, Benign.



Em battlements of the wast lain minds...
Only diffuses to refuse all heated mete.

Embittered gardens of past, opinionated rinds...
Refuse of ye, things to pet.

Things to bet, as wasted lies...
Always kept, as never spied.

Beyond the mind of mortal men...
Toiled best, drowned in sin.

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Michael Gale

Michael Gale

Chicago Illinois/Oklahoma City.
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