Blurred Vision
Secretly smashed is the Glass I see it coming now; although you don't, Daisy by day; Mercurial by night. Will there be more fuel for the fire? Hope is something long forgotten // A Weird Fish poem
from which you drink
a plentiful, pasteurized potion
of sorts.
that resembles some
resounding fallacy
to which you smile so proudly of.
a glad gust of wind whips into motion
the thought that was so thoroughly
unthought through.
Its impossible to foresee the right answer
But, yes.
And this is what has set us all free
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