New poem.

[Neoma]

I didn't name it...but here it is:

Axe murderer they cry to themselves.
A person cut the sign into twelve!
See the broken pieces here and there,
maybe there's someone that just doesn't care.

Sunny grow lazy, the helpers are going crazy.
Attention in the best of whistle.
Grab a torch, watch it sizzle.

Up the grove the wheel barrel goes:
Goodbye the sea-shine daisy that realmed the idle.

All turned away from a symbol of wealth.
Its known as a disguise to see not yourself.

Bury the crushed hearts of many.
See the job that crossed the sign.
Growth the grass dreams on.
Another sign guides the form.