glass whale

A look. A sigh.

Resentment, swimming with the whales,

I watch the glassy surface, to see where the glass will fracture.

Breached by festering problems, previously unsaid.

Mouldy stale, pore covered issues,

My monthly subscription never running out,

‘TROUBLE AHEAD’ – same headline every time,

And I just hope, the barnacles protect against glass,

Sometimes they do. Others they don’t.


  1. I love the painted glass. The poem in the beginning is awesome, lags in the middle. I think it might be more powerful if you rewrote the part on the subscription. Just my views, do not hate me for them.

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