visual men sleep in rows
visual men sleep in rowsdeeply disturbed
by the coming of opium
some grass never recovers
there are fields spoiled
with all kinds of addiction
solemnly and slumped
fiery fools fall
with curtain and plunge
white horse of dark sleep
haunts the solitary weight
where white men dream
it is no solace this wind
this aptitude for sound
in a silent corner
Poetry by Bob
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Editors' choiceWritten on 2014-07-01 at 23:09
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 by Bob Latest textsI seldom walkthere’s a rumor there will be no full stop so many regrets who am I |
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