Posted in Books & Stories, Just Poetry

One Lead Balloon

He wants to kill you

He will I know

How could you possibly my love

My light so pure

I’m from your future you see

Time travel to put it simpply

Hmm

Can’t tell him that

Will it fly

As lead balloons do

Did they have rubber rooms in those days

The origin of big butterfly nets and clean white coats

So young so strong

A great love maybe

Still

A bit much to swallow

 

 

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