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Red Thermal Trauma

Updated: Jul 10, 2023

That is what is going on!

My tomorrow is barely going!

My stay in your prison of fervent fears,

Then fenced-in high-strung

With inconsolable hopeless tears.

My quotidian shameful nourishment,

A custodian warden awarded;

Diurnal dessert of jaundiced

Inordinate pursuance is neatly forwarded.

Wait, what am I supposed to do?

My bones have no marrow!

For the thermal trauma tomorrow,

my procrastinator postpones,

my farm harrows,

My soul's harrow

Now runs out of all boroughs

And no burrows to borrow.

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