8th December

An artificial flicker

Made by a boot licker

He said it was life like

But it is a lie

 

Off the home planet

I saw no plant

That meant your plan

Had gone down the pan

 

On the glittering strand

I did barely stand

Only to see the sand

That made me sad

 

As laying sleepers of railways

I am dreaming always

Of flying away

 

And everything is lost

But I

I

 

Relapsed into a flashback

The fake fire in a flash

With a harsh lash

Reduced things to ash

 

No one can be a waster

Of a droplet of water 

Or a pip of citrus I ate

Now I look at

 

Rain falling, abounding

Seeds everywhere bound

And all in bud

 

And everything is lost

But I

I