Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
Remember that day of the phony "Mission Accomplished" day, when thinking people viewed him in that jump suit with that extra crouch stuffing, and when your face turned so red you felt liking ducking under anything available? Well, here comes my writings about it, READY?...be brave... be very brave... You strutted on Lincoln steel; not knowing what lay behind that thin-lipped-corporate-gah-gah-smile Offshore a fool's victory you did declare A vulture's feast you ushered in as many sulfur dances engulfed both air and skin What rooster pride you strutted on Lincoln steel, while bulbs exploded in heated flare How I remember you took that flight, with a pseudo-manly-stuffed-buldge you said, "I 'm all right!" In nightmares I see your faking smiling grin, as houses crashed and innocent died, as flames created a reddened sky Halloween-cowboy, flyboy-suit, a monster lurked on Lincoln steel And so, bulbs exploded in heated flare to land upon a nothing stare, to land upon a nothing stare, to land...upon...a...nothing...stare
0
Sep 23, 2014
Sep 23, 2014 at 3:59 PM UTC
Phony Opt.
Remember that day of the phony "Mission Accomplished" day, when thinking people viewed him in that jump suit with that extra crouch stuffing, and when your face turned so red you felt liking ducking under anything available? Well, here comes my writings about it, READY?...be brave... be very brave... You strutted on Lincoln steel; not knowing what lay behind that thin-lipped-corporate-gah-gah-smile Offshore a fool's victory you did declare A vulture's feast you ushered in as many sulfur dances engulfed both air and skin What rooster pride you strutted on Lincoln steel, while bulbs exploded in heated flare How I remember you took that flight, with a pseudo-manly-stuffed-buldge you said, "I 'm all right!" In nightmares I see your faking smiling grin, as houses crashed and innocent died, as flames created a reddened sky Halloween-cowboy, flyboy-suit, a monster lurked on Lincoln steel And so, bulbs exploded in heated flare to land upon a nothing stare, to land upon a nothing stare, to land...upon...a...nothing...stare
Abraham Lincoln I know for a fact was turning over in his grave with the shipbuilders. Aghast!!, Just imagine eight horrible years of him and the other *** Tricky Dicky
rw-dennen
Written by
Sep 23, 2014
Sep 23, 2014 at 3:59 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem