Accusations as false as my front teeth.
The struggle is one vicarious, and half as real.
My ability to chew through ice cream
In this primitive day and age of no compensation
loses its flair.
As I roll into the sunset in my traveling highchair.
Pushed by nearly everyone from nowhere near.

Like this:
Like Loading...
Published by Luke Meyer
Author, blogger, painter, poet, schizophrenic, vitamin salesman. There's a shadow person living in my head is something I believe. Fiction. Digital art. Smalltime jobs. I do all these things. Bad biology is a lie. God is a robot. View all posts by Luke Meyer