Find another phone,
Before distance laid plan
Of million miles standing force,
On the floor, too cold;
with words surprised!
neither written;
But the relics corner
Of virtue..
Nay! Still the fog,
Too weary! Too black!
Even shaded more harshly,
When watching the whitened roof
Entrapping fantasies. Mesmerizing the door
Upon softer side of sanity..
'Another phone
©dickybahar
