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Pollute

written by: Rando Mithlo

@Rodhnoe

 

I’ve come for the blue sky warmth
Get farther from the blowing horn
This tree is of sap that bleeds
Stuck to minds after we would leave
Want to jar you, you to shake me
To describe a scene in one’s dream
Made to be unfettered, serene
Stave off the creep of civics weed
Still...
Some will dump their refuge here
To vex the mind, 'til down you’ll stare
To place a check, to mark a list
Papers stamped in commonness
Throw shades on you to see their lens
Onto a wagon they’d pile in
Through roads of ruts, nail their signs
Intimidate with corrective lines
But...
This isn’t that stage, just grassy hills
Deeply drug through our past filled
In to breathe, this fertile green
A tablet white, a blackboard clean
To not divide with wedge or slurs
For they’ll all end, but an art endures

Rando Mithlo

Rando Mithlo

-Artist and Writer from Los Angeles currently living in Indiana- the bulk of my writings are short stories and poems that deal with a range of subjects including: emotional distress, strange happenings, thrillers and suspensestories.
Rando Mithlo

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