Way above

Flawed and misused in a dance
with forever more and others
in why and those with a stance,
those who not even a cat bothers.

Direct hit mentality drive-through
is dead end folding into dawn,
is a fold of space you can grow,
thin mist that sleeps on the lawn.




Poetry by Bob
Read 630 times
star mini Editors' choice
Written on 2009-08-02 at 01:58

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Editorial Team The PoetBay support member heart!
This text has been chosen to be featured on the front page of PoetBay. Thank you for posting it on our poetry website.
2009-08-02


Brian Oarr
This is Classic-Bob! Replete with language from "Way Above". I dig it!
2009-08-02



My compliments to your work created! Enjoyed reading your work.
2009-08-02