Chronicle


I am a pauper at the gates of no return
praying for pennies in halls of sober grave.
I am the echo of frail bones that burn
while all that I am cannot stay the wave
that beats on my skin
... the world is my only kin.




Poetry by Bob
Read 615 times
Written on 2008-06-06 at 09:46

dott Save as a bookmark (requires login)
dott Write a comment (requires login)
dott Send as email (requires login)
dott Print text


Stan Cooper The PoetBay support member heart!
Bob...you won't be, pauper or not, at the gates of no return for
quite awhile...Your poems, though often in a negative realistic vein, demand that you stay in this world to continue writing...
This kind of talent that you possess should go on and on

Stan
2008-06-06