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by Sumojo Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E · Poetry · Dark · #2295640
Eight line poem. Prompt image.
A picture dark, its form, surreal.
A giant hand appears.
A well-dressed man, a dream, not real.
Nor is the pocket watch, I fear.

Dark clouds they fill the leaden sky.
Black crows in wheatfield hover.
A field which waits for rain. Bone dry
The meaning? I’m waiting to discover
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