Day Of Rest

I have rested on my tootsies
For a six month trying to find
Sweet reasons to cure me.
What I hear cannot pure me
Unless your roots procure some
Novel differences slightly rapidly.

I'm always for second chances...
But they arrive just once. Watched
With eagle eyes as you lie
Before me with all the unnacountables
Sewn
Into well lined pockets it seems
You are just common thieves
Dressed as some untouchables.

I don't suppose you ever
Dream of any kind of future.
Yet I do.









Poetry by jenks The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 547 times
Written on 2011-06-22 at 23:47

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Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
With well-enough lined pockets, I suppose that one needn't dream of the future. I rest a lot, and dream about every kind.
2011-06-26


Sid Gardner
Why do I feel sad reading this..Come on lass...Snap out of it..Open that bottle and pour me a big smile.
Sid.
2011-06-24