Dawning Creations

Cringing at those who can’t hear it
Can’t capture a coping critter
Cramming the music
Cranking the songs
Cringing at those
Those who don’t hear it

Crab walking away from the silence
Cartels and catwalks a catalyst
Catalyst in a creaking and broken crib

Cuddling, clinging onto that note
Counting sheep, can’t create security,
Cramming these earbuds into fractured ears
Craving what they’re creating

Curbside marching bands
Clowns without their face paint
Cracking smiles that conjure eye crinkles
Curving tree branches and crooked night lamps
Crickets composing a concert with the katydids
Camping out, concerning over concord or cranberry
Choirs of christian singers charging their souls

Cramming the music
Cringing at those who cannot hear it
Confiscating the notion of being confused

Curbside marching bands
And cricket choirs are most desired.
Confusion is not welcome
Considered only to be considerate
A curious heart can consider
Craving what they’ve created

This was inspired by a post on my friend John’s aka woodsys page.