Perfection

Intimate numbing of the minds a creative

Return to the clock strikes early too much

Peanut butter toast will fill your belly on

Old bread, but whole grain, mind you, if

The body strikes the notch skill might

Let’s go fishing from the pier at the back

Of our most scary imagination in the spot

Where we throw it all in the blender we

Hope something good will come of it but

Nothing ever does we keep on, not quite

Realizing the insanity of it all, the tiny bit

Morphs into the demon on your shoulder,

It clings, it sings, it whispers things that

Might disturb you, with a healthy set of

Wings, in a life of purity, of paradise, of

No stress or money. So, what do you do,

In this new found string of past times and

Experiential happenings, a couple stings,

For the family winged way to perfection

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Author: Gordon S. Bowman III

Writer, Visual Artist, Blogger, Advocate

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