pink clouds ,
residue from the burnings…
why is it the further we spiral
the more beautiful life gets ?

in the thick smog
a child still swings
an old man smokes
birds spread their wings.
glide through poison
got no choice when it ends
everybody does the red moon dance.

pink clouds, only reason that we’re here
chained to the now
calmly living in fear
unsure of what’s next
until the fire burns near

drawn to its glow
try to tame the flame
swallow us entirely
the world stays the same.

plasticbagger’s spoken word project DOSTOEVSKY is available on bandcamp featuring tribal chants, an elvis impersonator, and a track about David Bowie’s death, this project is a spiritual odyssey chronicling the progress of making a great work of art. follow him on instagram (@plasticbagger) where he is most active. NOVEL COMING SOON — ONLY ON EXPAT PRESS.

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