Still Try To Write A Book

Microscope dreams flow colourful rain

Waits in the mess of lights

Suddenly starve in terrible pain

And stays to scare the nights

Engine noise, bad forest roads

Traffic lights and sad

Neon master, sunny lass

Waits for him in bed

Winding steel though rabbit is dead

Stilletto doves in flames

Drown they skill still skeleton which

Eat germs die all the same

Mother food sits head on knees

When knibbling know a crook

Party fuzz, breath, ashe and sand

Still try to write a book