Blueberry Trickery

It's his fantasy, taking over like a disease.

With peroxide princesses, and poker police,

With a subconscious ambulance, and a strangled expression

This is how the story repeats

With compulsive leprosy, and dashing glory—

His prosecuted imagination, he relapses artistically.

He’s subsidized sanitations for all his sins.

With a secret democracy and screeching thoughts

A memorial maniac in beautiful cemeteries

His gasoline eyes are a matter of assistance

The colors started to conflict

Breathing life inside his veins

All that remains, are photographs that will never be captured.

A hymn for the missing,

A silhouette for the damned

Resisted forsaken bedrooms, with bolted feathers

Witnessed cracks in the walls, and painted over them whole.

Unorthodox avocations, enticing the naivety in youth

Delightful lies and less than parallel words

All the games form into tragedies

While trying to concoct magic into stale air

Followed by a sense blueberry trickery

This is how the story ends