
Mind Sprocket gives voice to simple and honest perspectives. We publish thoughts and experiences on our world. We tell stories.

Another summer come on like
I cannot believe I’m still here
in paradise soon outdoors to sit
how long I’ve loved this place this
park these plants this plot of land
You are my love, my poetry,
My sounding heart and tongue;
My thoughts jumbled illit’rately
While your clear note rung.
Love is a scale often tipped.
Love is real.
It is also, unfortunate
As it is,
Often mistaken or replaced
With acted,
Glass replicas.
A bomb hardly explodes, but glows.
And poison kills not, but grows.
Why else, when stricken, do blades sing?
And why at funerals do bells ring?