Photo by Megan Watson on Unsplash
prancing as we
repeatedly toil,
prescient of our
so spoiled fate -
a life which weeps
and may only ever reap
scraps from your plate,
the Latin ordinare
which you prepare
leaves it’s rusted trail
across my tongue,
iron splinters
embed their prongs,
silencing talk
of the sham -
the entire, higher
empire scam
that has you lording
high above
lacking what we feel,
hoarding
what’s not real,
who really got the better deal?
About the Creator
Kayleigh Fraser ✨
philosopher, alchemist, writer & poet with a spirit of fire & passion for all things health & love related 💫
“Darkness to me is like water to the sea”
INSTAGRAM - kayzfraser
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