Some things were not made to be enjoyed;
The bitter tastes they leave on the palette;
The framed emptiness they draw not toyed:
The forceful thump of Thor’s mighty mallet.
Ever cringing nails on the dusty blackboard;
Piping rumbling ghostly marching skeleton bands;
Darkest nightmares suffered and explored;
Murky creatures move through dense moist wetlands.
When hope and love do not arrive on your booking;
be sure to recall that time of overlooking;
a subordinate word at the theatre of the absurd;
for entitlement to a smooth passage is unheard.
AGAINST THE FLOW OF TRAFFIC - ACTON28.BLOG 