All this dressed up confusion,
an amalgamation of ambient sound winds down the day…
fractured artist, tortured mind…
just like when my back pain drives my head insane.
Originality is lost on the mind that is stale of creativity.
Stalwart…apart…charted for DelMar.
Propriety gives way to our goodly society.
A gibe here or there may cause my mind to stare,
But I’ll not backslide.
I’ll not be stale with my sweetness
and override others’ intentions for me to die in my stride.
Child of GOD, sun-dried but not tired.
by Jerriè McGill
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