Published on March 17th, 2011 | by George Wyngaardt0
Puddle in the sky
A bomb in the sky, clouds shaped like a skull
Thunderbolts rip through a scene that once seemed dull
Rusting leaves won’t seem to leave me alone
Tippa tappa ,crystal spheres finding their way home.
Thoughts that flood my mind and drench my eyes.
Shelter is key but yet I am locked in the skies
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