Philosophy Of A Period - Poem by jason brierly
A funny series of pock marks,
Placed at a point
Where (like flung from afar)
Liquid lands in droplets
The revered period.
'bleed for days,
With a blatant disregard for rigor mortus,
For stiff comes not with this bleed'
This period bleeds for none...
Ink tossed and splattered,
Like brain fragments (post suicide)
The lone drop,
Landed precariously at the rear
Of a sentence,
Run-on no more...
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