Wordle# 44

Wordle 44 Jan. 19


The sun crumbles beneath

Freshly laundered clouds

As the detritus of a penalty

That cannot be rightly upheld.

There is a texture to my heart

Though I am neither old

Nor recently serviced.

It is as plausible as bark

A kind of porous exoskeleton

That both guards and permits.


I am valuable.

I do not have to earn the right

To be loved or to exist

Though my sensibilities

Are given often to coercion.


Perhaps I am magenta

Blinking, unreal

A gift without sender

A kind of philanthropic camera

That holds an image

Only so long as it serves

To communicate

Something larger than its own

Credulous stance.





I am not managing my time that well yet. I am managing school, necessities, and cleaning pretty well but I am still trying to find a way to get in exercise and blogging/writing. I did manage to squeeze in a little something for today!