The moon’s lost its luster
the sun’s just a hustler
at morning call, snails fill the rows
of a garden that’s failed
its blossoms full of nails
and soil where ashy loss grows.
The moon’s lost its luster
the sun’s just a hustler
at morning call, snails fill the rows
of a garden that’s failed
its blossoms full of nails
and soil where ashy loss grows.