• skossoff 35w

    These Days

    These days are a vivid purple
    Each one merges into the other
    Restless times in simmering thought
    With no crisp edges
    Blurred but intense.

    Every morning I awake
    My head stinks of yesterday
    Cluttered memories fall from my dreams
    Performing like actors in a play.

    The hours are eternal
    And the evenings are always ablaze
    Faces where masks in the darkness
    Everyone is out of control
    Yet no one says a word.

    Can't you hear the cries of the future?
    In my dreams I stand in the road
    Transfixed by my fears
    That thunder in the distance
    Ever closing

    The seventh wave is always the biggest

    ┬ęskossoff 1992