Last night came out again
in my feces again today.
Will the sunrise still rise
on burned, empty mornings?
Why has the sun continued to care
and the highjacking of planets is
only feasible, within reason?
Thus,
I drag my liver from off this porceline,
the shadows cause me whimper,
the civilizations come and go.
I pass on in shame.
– Poetry by W.T. tuqMairtin
novamartinpoetry.com 