Out of the ordinary
outside of redemption
the players play their pieces
in the game of perfection
bodies are chiseled
eyes are opened
but no longer the sight of innocence
something deeper lurks
in a hollowed tunnel
visions of white
painful opinions
cut deeper than knives
a poem once true runs cold and
false now
as perfection has entered extinction
when love was the same but
less involved,
now.
by Ashley Dodge©
