ebbortz

Wednesday, November 13, 2013

foresight

i've come to despise
the word
inevitable
mistrust all its promises and despair
hot summers of love
growing out of scoundrel times
iron heels
lopsided & skewing
every new fashion statement
there are hidden agendas
in the pastels
forbidden colors
that warm you up
pick you up
off the park bench
to escape
the bone chilling rains of autumn
getting you down
on this day
on any given day
there'll be a thousand voices
coming at cha
about the great coming
     choose your own inevitable

--- e b bortz

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