.
I am your used tissue.
I am less now than I ever was,
and I was less before I kissed you.
I am broken, battered, and entitled.
I am angry, dispirited, lonely, and cold.
I am the psuedonym who types these words,
and I flush my hand, but fold.
I am the drunken lively man who enchants the bar for games.
I am the hungover imprisoned man who hides beneath his sheets.
I am the faked smile and the jokes and sturdy mind,
I'm not the one you thought I'd be,
I'm less than what is me.
Poetry by Phill
Read 710 times
Written on 2010-05-05 at 06:09
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I'm not.
I am the dirt beneath the pavement of your driveway.I am your used tissue.
I am less now than I ever was,
and I was less before I kissed you.
I am broken, battered, and entitled.
I am angry, dispirited, lonely, and cold.
I am the psuedonym who types these words,
and I flush my hand, but fold.
I am the drunken lively man who enchants the bar for games.
I am the hungover imprisoned man who hides beneath his sheets.
I am the faked smile and the jokes and sturdy mind,
I'm not the one you thought I'd be,
I'm less than what is me.
Poetry by Phill
Read 710 times
Written on 2010-05-05 at 06:09
Save as a bookmark (requires login)
Write a comment (requires login)
Send as email (requires login)
Print text
vladimir turmanev |
Texts |
by Phill Latest textsSomething Less Than PoetryScar Tissue Musings #349 Musings #328 Musings #327 |
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