Black'n'red Pt.2 Poem by GRANT FRASER

Picture wall,
where do you go...

she dances crazily!

The blue paint, stricken mild,
Not Billy H.
not true...

Lets become a simple spec of dust,
flying through the shadow living room,
that's all, eclipsed by Sun,
expelled in the fresh air,
ascend, float out!

'Blue truth - I've been counting on you -
too long...

Now I'll score, that's right,
high above this dirt mound,
expectation chaste -

I mean is this - is?

Without freedom,
blown to bits,

Small cares....