Truckloads
of wasted words
line up on back lots, march
past shelled stone facades and down bleak
alleyways seeking young inquisitive
souls trapped in constipated minds
prone outside wisdom’s door
drenched in bullshit
scratching.
Truckloads
of wasted words
line up on back lots, march
past shelled stone facades and down bleak
alleyways seeking young inquisitive
souls trapped in constipated minds
prone outside wisdom’s door
drenched in bullshit
scratching.
Prompt: Unknown