Still Try to Write a Book

Microscope dreams flow colourful rain
Waits in the mess of lights
Suddenly starve in terrible pain
And stays to scare the nights
Engine noise, bad forest roads
Traffic lights and sad
Neon master, sunny lass
Waits for him in bed
Winding steel though rabbit is dead
Stilletto doves in flames
Drown they skill still skeleton which
Eat germs die all the same
Mother food sits head on knees
When knibbling know a crook
Party fuzz, breath, ashe and sand
Still try to write a book