Monday, 16 August 2010

Fauxtograph.

All precious tones don't have to glitter,
But those pixels mix a pretty picture.
Close my eyes and count to twenty-three,
Dark deafens screams of an artist empty.
Escape from this fools gold fantasy,
Faithful, disappointing, drowning belief.
Twenty-one, Twenty-two, Twenty-hurry.

1 comment:

alchemy16 said...

'Twenty-one, Twenty-two, twenty-hurry.'

Its theatrical, and then its not, and then it is again.

'But those pixels mix a pretty picture.'