Thursday, March 13, 2014

A DISASTEROID

       How odd of a commodity
         can a disasteroid be
       While dashing through space
           towards it's destiny?
        How well is time framed
          in that picture on your wall?
        When it seems about time
           for that picture to fall
        Are you but an infant
           in your own infantry?
        Will someone catch you
           when you let go of me?
        Are you trying to be the doctor
           of your own documentary?
        Will you come to surmise 
            that your eyes 
                have lost 
                    sight of me?
        For your darkness
             has swallowed
                 and taken
                      the light of me
         So like a boomerang 
               I'm cast out
                  to eternity
          And as I wizzz
                past the stars
                   I will yearn to be...free!...
                                                            free!...
                                                                       free...

         Stay creative my friends                   Wizzzmo

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