To hang from a tree,
evolving through death
to be toadally free..
—
Swinging high
an swinging low
to death thereby..
—
Paid in fully
without debate
most honestly..
—
Let me be hung
damn, the world
hell with humanity!
Sorry,
slip of the tongue…
No reason not to
donate!
The ultimate choice. You got the rhythm of a body swaying in the wind in this one. Atmospheric.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Say what?
LikeLike
I think we’ve already had this conversation. Can you rephrase the question?
LikeLiked by 1 person
What say?
LikeLike
I said I liked your poem, even if it is full of despair.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Not my despair! Just a poem, which you were the muse, talking about hanging..
Damn, we should do another piece together, those duets stimulate my mind..
hugs chris
LikeLiked by 1 person
I didn’t really think you were the despairing kind 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Is that a word “despairing”?
LikeLike
Of course. I think…
LikeLiked by 1 person