I crept past those
who wander night streets,
I slink in the shadows of doorways, and
past the light of
3rd and 5th street lay
an unbeating boy-awaiting
so patiently- for what I’ve stolen.
I cradle my most precious prize
as it glows and glitters in
my eyes and
illuminates my disgruntled grin,
“At least I had it for a while…”
God, I’m sorry, but there’s something
I’ve stolen,
And with a prolonged sigh I
let it free for
it dejected me…
With a pleased grin he
tossed and turned, the
beating boy regained his treasure.
God, he no longer
beats for me.
Aug 5, 2012
Aug 5, 2012 at 1:05 AM UTC
It clicks,
And ticks,
And chatters,
Always holding,
Always showing,
But never slowing.
Aug 5, 2012
Aug 5, 2012 at 1:02 AM UTC
Happiness is a broken seed,
growing sideways and down,
leafless yet green.
Aug 5, 2012
Aug 5, 2012 at 12:58 AM UTC