Farts fired

I remember this guy here, never got his name, I told him to strike a pose and here’s what I can look back on. I still smile when I do🙂.
In order to illustrate this poem, I didn’t edit. Enjoy!

Farts Fired.

Yet again memories tempt,

They sit around wishing
For us. They run their wry
Hands over our hair in
Faith that we’ll give
Them ears.

How many times does
Your neighbours memoir
Have to be your memo?
Certainly you’ve lived enough
But what links did you
Find your demo?

We are jolted by some
things; we are halted by
Others. They pride with
Anger and joy with mirth.
They sometimes haunt,
But for some, flaunt

We hate to be slaves, but that we are
Only in-dependence with choices;
To preempt or live out life in grim
A continuum of what we make
Of now.

Yet again memories tempt,
They lay in style waiting
for us. They hang themselves
In whispers in faith that
We’ll pen ’em scars.

Everyone is good, safe
what you make of it
Everyone you have
simply conjugate to
what you are.

You can walk back,
But like fart fired,
you can’t hold ’em
You can only determine
What they be like;
N2O or NO2.

Which day is unholy?
Which day is not good?
Which day is your sabbath?
Which day is not relevant?

It’s a new day, but what kind?
Good Day, do check some of my previous posts, would you?


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