About

I've derived these small moments
Into sweet nothings,
Not nothing like a whisper or a shout,
Bird in its cage rattled about.
No.
Oh no,
A sweet nothing worn down to its core,
Nothing upon nothing, upon nothing
And the tattered clothing that which held
it end on end literally falling to pieces
Is,
Withered down too
Like acid rain vomit
Wicked words ruined this one.

Stainshane