all the pine trees are tall.
you’re too short, pinned on the wall.
speedy and haste.
a broth to taste.

what i see is revelry.
a feast to approve, not tragedy.
jump from the high hill.
landed, broken and killed.

folly, i suppose.
you’ve left your boast.
the earth can’t save you.
no false love is true.




About chester maynes

poet, and a lover of music and books.
This entry was posted in Poetry. Bookmark the permalink.

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