Filed in Gather Writing Essential by on December 20, 2011 0 Comments

The present is a conclave of conflicting ideas

and a rigmarole of troublesome thoughts; petals

which once adorned the bride, now flake whittled

dreams and jeopardized enigmas. The widowed future

is mired by a defunct past and a withered present.


I embrace death on my birthday.


(c) Juan Baldo Delacroix, All rights reserved, 2011.

About the Author ()

Poet | Writer | 0.5 Marathoner | Pedaller | Guitarist | Painter | LibriVoxer | Photog | Tekkie

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