PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Moon stepped gingerly on clouds. 
Apples were painless. 
Yes, centrifugal goes the truth 
on a ploy, unveiling the sky. 

Pain of the dreaded times, 
was visible through the invisible. 
Tremors in the mountain range were 
palpable passing through the spine of faithful. 

I am not. But I am non-beliver 
in me. A real transcript of a restless 
syndrome. The oranges fly in all directions 
to gallows for humor. 

A false poem. Sexless. The uranium was 
getting rich. Bang, the hypocrisy again 
rules amdist the shaved heads. Exactly 
the truth lives far away.