last night, the moon was full
and the bridges were lit. you
were out scavenging, as usual,
under bridges and beneath the moon.
...
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'the bridges are lit, the moon is full and you are scavengine.'.. an intrinsic invitation for me... (you are always welcome) . witty created poem. thanks fr sharing.md
Jesse, I love this poem, it is my favorite of your works. Beautiful work. Carolynn
you are not beautiful, but you think you are. - Truth, but you have to work with what you were given. Maybe when we feel ugly we need to kill our-self's. This way the world won't have to sneer in discuss. Everyone will automatically self explode and burn turning ash. How many would be left? None? No one is beautiful all the time; except for love. T.