By Irina Diacenco
Strong, black coffee on a frosty November day,
The thrills of the birds transform bricks into clay
An amalgam of broken emotions fly and they may
Yesterday I begged disillusion to stay!
Imaginary thoughts trapped in a box
Spin with fervor and hunt like a fox.
Desirous to impose a reality of their own,
Suppress the world as it is known.
But despair not, you lost soul
You tossed and you turned until you found coal.
And misty indifference veiled the magic at dusk
The empty contents struck as poison in a flask!
Photo by Irina Diacenco