Royaume de France: burgandy

Friday, January 2, 2015

Queen of France


In the days drawn accent into wet,
my pants leggings continued to dredge
thru the swamps of a cities rainy keep.

Nothing stopped their demise
into its filth without soaps,
agony cried out, "don't become over
don't die out & lose your status in the streets."

Back again they won to edge underneath my shoes,
to find another puddle easier,
a puddle they belonged too, more,
more than all my favoritism given to,
me forgotten, my disquieted owns,
a new tender they acted-in,
as a never, never before did they even care.