
It gets rusty with all the rain
And the yellows
Just run into brown all day
The pain echos
Inside hallways
Locked away from you
But sometimes
I think you can hear
The ruining
Behind those walls
It’s not as noisy
As you’d think
The death of words
So many slaughtered
Reimagined
And recreated
For consumption
My small way
Of saving the world
From the rust
From the browns
Published on December 19, 2022 07:00