A Poem


Perplexing puzzles my picturesque point of view. So I ponder on the pandemonium in my mind. Pixies,Pyramids,and Pyromaniac Peasants playfully pounce onto my pendulum.How preposterous to think a precise plea would interrupt my pleasurable plague. Problematic phantoms and phantasms. Praying for pillars to keep the pile of propaganda from being postively publicized.Yet we pledge to an evil of sorts leading to an inhumane omen. We are the people who become powerless and victims of prey. Perception in this sense I feel is viewed through a clever conundrum.

surreal poetry
How does it work?
Read next: I Am A Bullet.
Cascade Hairston

I am a Artist 

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