Eyes of a Fly

Seeing red boxes everywhere.

Call a van.

Call of hands.

To lift me outta here.

Return to sender via a rubber stamp.

Stamped the onslaught of negative thought.

Font size 11.

Dress like your seven.

Teens think you’re a messiah.

Horned-toothed on a pin-toothed cardigan.

Not again.

Catalogue another bad heart again.

Call a friend.

A quest for a new heart again.

Now another bend comes another rubber stamp sender.

Thinking what else to write on a broken bench.

Sitting there seems the right moment to speak about a favorite sandwich.

Disregarding what else to write.

Out of spite leaving the bench position for the night.

That sandwich was superb with a can of sprite.

Spirit lifted grabbed by a call of hands.

That cost more than a rubber­­­­­.

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