in the echoes of memory stand the ten time ten daggers of heartregret the ancient wounds of unreclaimed reticence
in the junkyard of broken hearts lie the eight time eight monuments to monumental failure drawn in honeyed dream
in the hospital of whispered odes sing the six by six bloodwound choirs that scream inchoate rage to the dulcet hammers of angst
in laced up slippers the ballerinas traipse across dust covered nothings with four by four now two by two inconsiderations
on the cold carved bench of obsidian dreamscape sits the lone fool one by one lost in languid longing listening to the echoes
Mike's Manic Word Depot 
Hi, Mike. Thanks for a beautifully penned poem. Love the imagery and skilful use of words. Really enjoyed reading. Happy Writing. Have a great day. Goff
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I appreciate the kind words. Thank you.
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My pleasure. Have a great day. Goff
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*applause*
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sleepy headed poetry gets the applause!
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Always does. That or drunk, raging poetry.
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that’s true too.
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