Like a snapshot
of negative thought
hanging by a thread
of frayed trust
The world knows
how to go to work,
can drag itself out of bed,
As it converges
with itself,
at most,
between a plate of cereal
or a mouth of toast,
it's a secular
momentum,
awaiting
some divine intervention;
A pink moon on the back
of a spoon,
with a gossamer milk wash,
You can't get human enough,
and reverse or rehearse the
flesh pink moment
of thought flying open...
- the free token, of true devotion,
before it turns out -
back to front
wrong? (I don't know)
it's a battle, I tell ya!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Negative thought provokes thought that world knows. We hope for positive thought always. An amazing poem is shared here...10