How do things unravel?
What is the thorn that catches the dress,
at the edge of the thread that
holds the seam that’s
a tad too tight
from the tailors tug
on the faulty machine
from the bumpy ride
on the overused road
in an over-exacted society
running against all odds to make something
of their own?
.
Who’s to say?
.
Instead we say,
“Don’t play by the bushes dear
– you know that dress is new.”
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