Shovels and Pickaxes

unearthed

circles come to close
days of madness cut the chase
pools oiled with distilled me’mries
of yesteryears and stale tomorrows

promises unfulfilled yet unbroken
lies left unsaid truthfully enough
behind musty curtains of longing
they sigh and wait sweet visions

spite for spite or might for might
it matters not at the junction
crossroads leading to crossways
choices ready ripe for picking

days come to close
circles grow mad within limits
yesteryears bathe in pools of tomorrows
mem’ries buried now deep underneath

image courtesy of deathby1000papercuts.blogspot.com.

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