Do you believe that I’ve got something magic in me
Do we get to see everything when the sun comes up – I’ve been meaning to make you…
I’ve been meaning to call
Just that I really couldn’t care less
You’re a careless sonuvabitch and you will need silencing
Why do you have to dress like a warlord…
One heartfelt gulp – incredibly energetic yet, nonetheless, seemingly willing to interrupt her momentary everything if she so much as lets it
Pretty green eyes which will cry…
You swoop on in here, about as bitter as bitter can be
It really is quite extraordinary, vomit-inducing in fact
I wish I could say that I’ve seen far…
This thing is killing us entirely, can you not simply see that?
My, oh my…
My mind is failing to find any such way forward, seems you’ve been and…
T’was your mesmerising art that stood you wholeheartedly apart
These teeth may as well be beautifully besieged by pastel teeth
You really were beautiful, mind-alteringly albeit unquestionably so
These high-wired people approaching your particular homegrown corner as though the next coming perhaps – none of them religious yet…
Old Missus Farrell knew everything about damn near nothing – she dressed just as her mother had done, a rip-roaring and delicately manicured disgrace
This pock-marked face holds…
Old Bob Dylan sits and watches his world go by – these wrinkled and altogether eyes have been to see perhaps a million little stories
And, you can…
Crushed torsos propped atop these disfigured legs, two pairs of constantly bleeding eyes that have been trying to romantically pry again
When one such manic midnight car-crash managed…
A penny for your every thought and we were broke before they ever really knew it
My concerned mind no longer able to gate-crash your every down-trodden party
You…
A cheat by all accounts, looking to amount to all kinds of deceitful lies
When she hid it out and pried like an undercover everything – willing to…
She offers up a seemingly
carefree smile, anything but
All too devotedly willing to remain all kinds of pristine while drying her eloquent eyes right out – these days…
It all seemed to make absolute sense
Where people sat while the constant and knowing chatter commenced
Drenched one way or a surefire other, these thunderstorms do hold favours…
He is dressed to impress, to wholeheartedly set these altogether pumping hearts apart – when a rather affable and altogether charming soul gets to caress the Broadway…
He placed down his rifle and swapped it for a violin – when the least suspecting thing in the whole wide world can seemingly just occur
The sweat…
Suppose we tow the line for a while – inclined to remain all too easy on the eye
My, oh my, why do we need to breathe through…
These coffee-stains do tend to remind me, softly stubbed-out John Player cigarettes settled all of their own accord, when you and I got to disguising the atrocious…
Copyright © 2015 poetart. All rights reserved.