Dog tired bones
These dog tired bones
that slowly rot
the trot of mire mass
in hollow perpetuation.
Sanctimonious hypocrites
hide dark dreadful deeds
behind crude cloth
and name it creed.
Misty mislead nuns
that cry in the night,
moist monks that dream
of young skin.
These dog tired bones
have walked too far
and seen far beyond
veils of dead wisdom.
Poetry by Bob
Read 1459 times
Written on 2006-01-04 at 00:20
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