A Poem by S.H. Fielding

We Birth, we breathe.

We die, we leave.

Life is a warm drink,

swallowed too fast and nurtured too long.

Where do we slide between the hyphen?

Whom do we become before the horizon?

Culture invokes an image,

a facade to be desired.

Some fallacies…










Shelby Fielding

Writer, Aspiring Author, & Coffee Enthusiast

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