THE END…

began a poem ’bout wind…playgrounds…mom’s swinging kids high in the air…slides of different colors…trees in autumnal hue…

started that poem…quickly decided…,God….this is fucking aweful…truly horrendous…what the hell is wrong with me..

then.. read some Flannery O’Connor…i felt so much better…

THE END.

Published by: dmseay

The writing is based on my surroundings and what I've been surrounded by. This language is coarse and politically incorrect; which I make no apologies for. These characters are not nice and to use any other dialogue would be disingenuine. That being said, I choose to roll the dice. dm seay

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