It gets rusty with all the rain
And the yellows
Just run into brown all day
The pain echos
Inside hallways
Locked away from you
But sometimes
I think you can hear
The ruining
Behind those walls
It’s not as noisy
As you’d think
The death of words
So many slaughtered
Reimagined
And recreated
For consumption
My small way
Of saving the world
From the rust
From the browns
HASTYWORDS 
“He who would do good to another must do it in Minute Particulars: general Good is the plea of the scoundrel, hypocrite, and flatterer, for Art and Science cannot exist but in minutely organized Particulars.” William Blake
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Reblogged this on cabbagesandkings524 and commented:
HASTY – Minute Particulars
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Beautifully dark 🖤
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💕
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