pearly gate creaks
a peek, and you float
out robed in
steam,
think i caught
the mirror
blush,
meet me in the mist,
trace a heart on glass
and kiss it on
its lips,
for it won’t be long
‘fore there’s
no mist.
Smoke on Mirrors
pearly gate creaks
a peek, and you float
out robed in
steam,
think i caught
the mirror
blush,
meet me in the mist,
trace a heart on glass
and kiss it on
its lips,
for it won’t be long
‘fore there’s
no mist.
I am a Social Worker by day and an artist/writer by night. I use the written word in an attempt to make sense of the secret worlds and dysfunctional dynamics that lurk beneath the facades of our daily interactions. I am not sure how my writing styles are characterized, nor am I overly concerned about it. I am immensely enthusiastic about music and often connect better with songs than I do people. I also have an intense appreciation for quality wines and whiskies, frequently consuming them in excess. I like things that smell good and struggle to manage the symptoms of a life-long relationship with depression. So, why "grumpygorman"? Spend some time here and find out... View more posts
