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in-hiding

the identity of one being ripped away
as if covered by the snow
with each layer
the complexity rises
in the melting pot
they all pull together
three of the senses
being drowned by one
someone has to take the lead
and sneeze passing on
to the next generation
our ancestors faults
no admittance is granted
the reaping to one is know
to the on-looker watching
wanting a new urn in the end
is a lot to chew and digest properly
so let the layers lay in hiding
till the understanding is won
it’s not done ...
it’s sure not fun...
with the weight of the world
and no where to run...   .

Preferido o celebrado por...
Otras obras de Patricia May Neiderer...



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