'Dysfunction'

Midnight hit the rose-petals,
like light from a cigarette-flare.
Just a symptom of dysfunction,
just an inability to deal;

with a some-thing, some-where.
Fear discredited regardless.

Just a ghost in the street;
time is still as the world spins on.

But the rain sets you free;
and you’ll live.

'Dysfunction'

Laszlo Totka

Sydney, Australia

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