365 Days of Poetry: Day Two-Hundred and Ninety-Two

been twenty years and it’s hard to see.
what all the madness means to me.
bumble and snitch and bandersnatch.
time moves forward but I hold back.

whipping the willow, trying to flow.
past what is real and what is known.
is it the drugs or just a bad sack.
peanuts and penny whistles come to attack.

waste all the apples and make me a meal.
find a fine flower with petals to steal.
thought I found love but it’s all an escape.
these are the pies that memory makes.


About June Faramore

Writer of fantasy, mainstream, and young adult fiction. Poet and sketcher. Mother. I read a lot and love cheese. Guitar playing singer-songwriter. I also enjoy stepping on the cracks in the sidewalk. View all posts by June Faramore

this side, that side

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