the scream

A Poem ...

"... the paintings ..."

it's where we've been
and what remains
of those to be
are the seen

"... do you have the munchys ..."
for some reason I do.

walking along
there came the two
voices in my head
screaming true
sun sets to red
in skies of blue

"... are you sure we don't die ..."
for the seasons do
and surely there fore
the scream must too

yet another score
where there before
were fenced a door
to the other side
beyond a fjord
where voices hide

she can hear them...
and that's why

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