Hunting for the last of the dandelion

by Darren   Aug 6, 2015

Now that man has finalised his end
not knowing where nature's lies begin
unable to see where the truth ends
sleepwalking into tomorrow's dreams.

I find my thoughts aboard a ghost ship
sailing slowly away from my goals
ambition lost to slaves of my past
your hate filled punch is a touch of truth.

I may be blind to my own future
my before collides with my after
but on this path, through the fog and rain
lives the last of the dandelion.


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