Inspired after reading a few hundred pages of Keats.


John Keats

Instruments hung up to never be used
Sounds like a cello so sugary
And screeching in sweetly abuse

Voices raking my mind accross the ground
Forcing my head to turn to un-holdable
Beauty that once existed but is now in the ground

Lovely eyes and skin pale and red
Prettiness overflowing the well of my mind
And I feel my body heat up turning red

Hold me and touch my hand with your fingertips
Causing my mind to go nicely blank
I will take all your words and hold them

Thought is subsiding thank you my beautiful
My muse of sweet plainness
You need not give me thought so lustful





Poetry by David Monfort
Read 277 times
Written on 2008-09-15 at 23:09

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