Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
The bog in my arm pits and my oily complexion are subtle reminders. I step over three-day-old dog **** pick up my guitar, play three chords then put it down. Sit down at my computer.  Watch **** for hours. Futile. New idea. Watch television. Click the channel button a few hundred times and then some. Finally, a scenario worth watching. A fragile, old man with shaky hands offering his wallet, pressed against a brick wall with a gun to his face, begging and pleading for his life. Without hesitation the petty thief shoots the poor ******* right between the eyes, killing him instantly and escaping with the wallet. I start to imagine what it would be like to have that pistol in my face, threatened for my life. I couldn't be so **** lucky. However earlier today I did find a quarter with heads facing up... I reach for my wallet and head out the door.
0
Apr 10, 2014
Apr 10, 2014 at 8:03 PM UTC
Lucky
The bog in my arm pits and my oily complexion are subtle reminders. I step over three-day-old dog **** pick up my guitar, play three chords then put it down. Sit down at my computer.  Watch **** for hours. Futile. New idea. Watch television. Click the channel button a few hundred times and then some. Finally, a scenario worth watching. A fragile, old man with shaky hands offering his wallet, pressed against a brick wall with a gun to his face, begging and pleading for his life. Without hesitation the petty thief shoots the poor ******* right between the eyes, killing him instantly and escaping with the wallet. I start to imagine what it would be like to have that pistol in my face, threatened for my life. I couldn't be so **** lucky. However earlier today I did find a quarter with heads facing up... I reach for my wallet and head out the door.
donny-edward-klein
Written by
Apr 10, 2014
Apr 10, 2014 at 8:03 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem