Wednesday

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. 
Hearing Disorders Voice in harmony,
it causes 
I only listen to the illusion. 
Your voice syrupy gore, promises 
women, always a rose garden. 

Today, I write, 
a few moments to create a poem. 

I look at the life of a 
the black alleys of the hidden shadows. 
It's a sunny little moment comes, 
the internal sense of melancholy 
can be blinded by the moment. 

Wednesday swinging enters 
in the middle of my week. 
It's like the tail wagtail. 
I 'm holding onto life, yet I do.