See-Sore


see-sore.jpg

Echoes of words fly past.
Meaning lost. Only noise left.
All blustering wind sending clouds sailing across the sky with no direction in mind.
Forcing a way through but blundering always.
Blabbering on with the sensitivity of a rusty hack saw. Each rut dragged over innocent heads leaves behind sourness and stitches.
Selfish team player.
Sore loser.


 

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