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Synthetic Sunshine

  The dull, murmuring, disillusioned memory gripped my confused conscience like a dull and scarlet icicle.   I flutter. A lost, childish soul in the perceptible tattered grip of intellectual possession. I am lost. Unbalanced. Cowering. Lost   My  elastic

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A Couple Poems

Here are a couple of pieces I have been tinkering with over the past couple weeks.  The first is inspired from a passage from the Interesting Narrative of Olaudah Equiano.  The second is just something I’ve come up with.  Forgive screwy formatting.

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