A yellow brick, a metaphor of time A time for metaphors that mark the way Oh Dorothy! Is there nothing else sublime Sublimity is more than bricks you say
That’s deep, you bitch. Just give it to me straight As straight as simple lies or simple storms Your wonderland is strange and yes, you’re late And yet you deviate from all the norms
Your deviance, a holy trinity Becomes the way you live when you are lost So, trade it in for silver liberty And pray to god you never learn the cost
The cost of every yellow brick you find Is paid by someone else’s simple mind.
This entry was posted on Wednesday, May 13th, 2026 at 11:44 pm and is filed under Sonnets. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed.
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