Title: Shift
by Tom from Suffolk | in writing, poetry
Creamy fascination, drift in shape,
I stumble slowly by.
Snickerfang jowl, my mind, and snape,
Walking down the sty.
It tangles, fixes, toss-turns outward,
Rambles bluntly, jerks to forward
A question squirms, a meaningless point.
We are the thoughts of age old dreamers,
Shame, we disappoint'
A continuous conscious stream of poetic babble.
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