August 19, 2016Bioman, Flash, Poem, Poet, The Daily Writ, Uncategorized Leave a comment The Mafiosa Game There was a time when I felt like the right fool Trying to imitate another I do not care for truffled minds I only do what comes Naturally I do declare that sometimes I do Think about it and wonder How it is that I can do it And others can’t? It must be some Divine gift I think But it does go wrong sometimes And it makes me believe it too So I go from psychoid to psycha- without Having present tense to be awain for. I want to explain – it does not come form a place called Me It comes from a place called the Mafiosa or Mindgame Transfer where when I see it it is already on the page Before me. Bye! Copyright B E Saunders 2016 Share this:TwitterFacebookPrintLinkedInEmailLike this:Like Loading...