objective past

a dandelion like fluffy flower

won’t last,

soon memory,

contemporary telemetry,

imagined object,

nothing more.

just subjective,

no objective.

no matter how far we go

it always seems to grow,

more division from unity.

why be an individual?

“..become one of the people..”

“..not one of them..”

“..a thieving villain ruling..”

breath in the air,

exhale the smoke,

“..opt for keir?.”

“..not round ‘ere..”

more yellowy-blue,

“..liberally cruel..”

when I was younger,

tv held an alternative choir;

saturday live,

young ones,

red dwarf,

absolutely,

all past now.

was it fun because of telly?

or was it being younger,

“..or more full of jelly..”

“..rude books..”

“..getting changed at school..”

hard one to decipher,

maybe it’s one in the same.

© Copyright 2022 InkeyString

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