TBD

TBD on Ning

fear of becoming a curmudgeon

and other grim dungeon tales

bless my tortured soul


the things we tell ourselves

sins committed

we only allow outselves to see

while the inself

we hold hostage


the lies we sell ourselves

derivatives

while quenchless sorrow well serves its needs

immediate

not the long haul


stop the bleeding

face your muse

spits on her thumb

wipes my brow

like pick up sticks

twigs in my hair


coming of curmudgeons

roll up your sleeves

it won't stop vagrant indigitives

eyes gone vacant

dugout trenches

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