Evenings


Brightness lost, from under the clouds
muffled light diffuses out,
wrapping the earth in a blanket of darkness.
Not dark enough to be shown a light to,
not bright enough to warm the eyes.

A head full of laughter clubbed to death
by a nose full of snot,
constricting the flow of happiness
by a mere thought full of guilt.
Where was Lewdness born, who is his mother?

Sin is not to blame, the goodness is.
Judges we become.
Weeds of pride destroying the crops,
of love, happiness, and warm indifference.
They’re right when they sing the times are a-changin’.

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