Stifled fume of my spirit
Restricts my flimsy envelop,
My existence is a series of implosions.
Jitter in my gist
Caused a miscalculated prophecy,
My life is a crumpled folio –
A miscarriage I chose to deny.

I’m yet to happen.
And I know that I will.

I hope this makes some sense. I will be posting further poems hereon. Thank you for reading.

paper-face - Vincent Duault
Copyright – Vincent Duault

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