Thursday, 28 April 2016

The Subconscious Basement.

face it, it's probably rubbish


There’s a name
Annoying my brain,
I can't articulate or explain.
Not yet
Driving me insane ,
However,
I’m unable to refrain
From trying to make it plain
Wanting to say it clearly,
Like summer rain
Falling
Or a bubble of champagne,
Rising.
I’m certain
It’s not Burton
Yet behind the curtain
Hanging uncertain
Over my thoughts.
The waiting is hurting.
Consternation
Is Frustration
And the knowledge that patience
Is a virtue,
And complacent
Leaves me lost in the basement

Of my subconscious.

int/31

1 comment:

Giuseppe Grossi said...

wrapper rap. respect to thee

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