Friday, July 12, 2019

Poems and Prose #169 - Rivet

The blight shall
forever stain me,
I mutter to myself
unintelligibly,
some invisible blemish,
to others, clearly seen,
though I accept its status
as a lithe, shape-shifting thing.

This concocted story was
a mesmerizing scene.
Its grotesqueness fixed
my stare, indeed.