Sprouting and ballooning, the moment in which it is fed.
It consumes only its own, self-made fertilizer.
It takes you to bed, dead
At times it is empty, unfulfilled
other days starving and pretending to sleep
Sometimes even hollow,
sometimes too deep
Still, sleep is not an option
sleep is not a choice
sleep is not existent
for those without a voice.
For they have other wires,
wires running deep
and wires lead to currents
the kind I wish to keep
A current flies through wires
seething inside a core
a core like mine
Eliminating instantly a sore
A macaroon without its ganache,
is suddenly double stuffed.
Free of all doubt
I appreciate never having bluffed
As its roots grow, it spreads amongst the power lines
English Ivy in the sky flows
And in classic terminology,
A lightbulb glows
But why use classic terminology when
I was inspired today?
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