Bloody Cruel Stockings — Foul Air

Morning surprises and terrifying assumptions.

Photo by frank mckenna on Unsplash

Weekend mornings are sacred in my routine life. Getting away from the screens on my desk at home is difficult. I make it a point to walk down to the beach Saturday and Sunday morning.

Morning mist clears my head
wake from fantastic dreams, can’t explain;
fill my world with thoughts of death,
take a stroll to clear the dread.



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Greg Prince

Greg Prince


Bringing real feelings along with messages of inspiration and imagination to life. Awakening is the symptom of my infectious condition. Poetry is my condition.