deep inside the corrosive
deep inside the corrosivethe secular glow of man
there is a bone burning
a content to contest
before tools of old
no longer hold a function
whispering tales of no more
float like white sores
skin dying skin dead
hate coughing in chambers
where a flag is just a flag
where dying is slow
the gift of breath and water
the bread song of not dying
the icy sea shore spite crying
may it not be wasted on longing
beneath any risen moon
with any kind of legged eye
Poetry by Bob
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Editors' choiceWritten on 2014-04-17 at 03:07
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 by Bob Latest textsI seldom walkthere’s a rumor there will be no full stop so many regrets who am I |
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