Title: Thoughts unwashed
by Cierra | in writing, poetry
Thoughts unwashed '
While those thoughts that are
Washed are like carousel horses:
The horses of art
And trained in thought
Gilded and gold
And perfectly formed
But dead
In themselves.
The thoughts unwashed
Show in the Clydesdale
Thick and sweating
With tangled mane and split hooves
That pulls the beer cart
Through the cluttered
Streets of Germany.
The hate of flowery writing slimmed by egotism.
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