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South-by-SouthwestPoems
Trombone bones don't make a poem Funny that you ask I wonder what or why made you the cry Now I have to ask "The bones are bleached then laid bare upon the Sands of time" "We hang by threads until we cut the rope of life that binds" Then the funeral proceeds down the street Clairenets , trumpets and trombones Life is chance a game of dice Won't you roll the bones
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Feb 5, 2019
Feb 5, 2019 at 3:40 AM UTC
Trombone Bones
Trombone bones don't make a poem Funny that you ask I wonder what or why made you the cry Now I have to ask "The bones are bleached then laid bare upon the Sands of time" "We hang by threads until we cut the rope of life that binds" Then the funeral proceeds down the street Clairenets , trumpets and trombones Life is chance a game of dice Won't you roll the bones
South-by-Southwest
Written by
South-by-Southwest
75/M/Birmingham , Alabama
Feb 5, 2019
Feb 5, 2019 at 3:40 AM UTC
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