Poetry Unbound

Search This Blog

Want to Play a Game?

Get link
Facebook
Twitter
Pinterest
Email
Other Apps

I never play with death

You can cheat him

But in the end

He always wins

Death Cheat

Get link
Facebook
Twitter
Pinterest
Email
Other Apps

Comments

Drifters

Words keep hanging out Down at the end of the line But there's no train at the station And no one is keeping time They sit there in their solitude With no where else to be The words all become drifters Just like this heart in me

The Sweetest Death

Your poison berry So red and ripe Yearning to be picked Tempting to be tasted Knowing it ends in death Still I put you in my mouth

Open Invitation

My legs fall apart at the very thought of you An open invitation For you to come inside

Powered by Blogger

Theme images by sandsun

Want to Play a Game?

Comments

Post a Comment