Oh, to Follow You.
By Withering petals
Tranquility in the form of a verbalized epiphany
Underscoring the
validity of your view
Submission in the form of a commissioned gratitude
I ask not what I know but how to follow you
Prophetic are
those visions picked out
of a Maghrebi Bazaar,
With
hints of Oriental Satire
Muddled in the socialist smoke of a Cuban
Cigar,
I do not ask who you are…
But fumble around in
the dark,
Your voice the only sound,
Your ignorance….is profound,
I do not question who we are,
But only how to follow you.
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Copyright 2011 Withering petals
Published on Tuesday, March 29, 2011.
Filed under:
"Poetry"