Make My Proof

It’s the aimlessness really

That lack of purpose in the gaps

Certainly no divinity defined

Could ever take my doubting mind

PROVE IT! I scream inside

Whilst the universal pen





Straddling the agnostical fence

I wait for someone on a horse

To come pass me an apocalyptic scroll

With a giant box of crayons thrown in for fun

I can doodle in the margins

Illustrating such nonsense

With my own style of hieroglyph

A faint scent of apples

And a hiss



Copyright October 2014