Fogs Dighting

Everything is backwards

And nothing goes ahead.

We will all be dead.

It will not be said.

We knew what we did here.

Out of thought in to fear.

No reason now for rhyme.

We are outa time.

The chickens have come home.

Barry Williams

Much of what I write will be quite understandable to insane folks.

The rest will be, uh, less understandable...

You May Also Like

More From Author

+ There are no comments

Add yours

CommentLuv badge

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

Subscribe without commenting