Snare.

How often I read my old poetry,

Would leave you beyond surprised

As each piece plays the part of a snare

Preying on threads of fate

That happen to stray my way

Capturing a moment in Time

Building a statue through Immortalized context

All in the realm of the immaterial

Much to the delight and or melancholy

Of my present self.

– O.D. ©2018

Art by: ryky