there are lost camels

there are lost camels
roaming the seamstress shop
whales logging in
to the worldwide web
just to catch drifting men
staggering street men
shoot up whatever they can
to make sure they are hurting

there is a smile
at the bottom of the path
men will die for
there are a thousand ways
not to say goodbye
see there is still this I in you
the weather turned into afternoon
I am still the I here





Poetry by Bob
Read 623 times
Written on 2017-06-02 at 16:12

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