Bloody Cruel Stockings — Foul Air

Morning surprises and terrifying assumptions.

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

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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.