The sky going round.

The rainbows in chains.

All you do is blame indigo.

What dove have you loved?

What sparrow has loved you?

And yet you never say hi.

I am a chain of rainbows.

In my agony I curse my inner sky.

I am the undead rainbow.

I am a fool and I believe the lies of indigo.

Then Monday comes.

Like the ark of a javelin I must write a poem.

In retribution I drag my futility and plow the illusion called earth.

This was the last thought I had before sleep.

God?, if I plant a seed, will you bring a small drop of rain for this child of need?

I'll drag the rainbows any time you need.

~mliarrr