The strange anoint


Read what you read at not great speed,
Believe what you believe and don’t retrieve,
Art is the art of words to enjoy for cool nerds,
Fiction and fiction creates a beautiful friction,
Fiction with some reality is life’s insanity,
Write what I write keeps a semblence of my sanity with rarity,
What is the point of this “poem” point?
I might as well say that I’m the anoint,

(I have to promote, feels strange for me actually, you can find my poetry book here:ÅMÅŽÕÑ&keywords=charly+priest&qid=1572992748&sr=8-1 )

Stay Frosty gents and gentesses.

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