Spitting blood into the sink
from infected gums
who gives a **** anyway
about hopeless romantic love
Life is Happy, Life is Sad
a poem for any occasion
She abandoned desire way downtown
although the clock said she was aging
They had plans to leave Bangkok by train,
two seats they didn't fill
A wayfaring stranger without a name
prayed they never will
The music rang out like a shotgun blast
and stung like a scorpion's tail
There was nothing left to comprehend
just two diverging trails,
from me to you
Dec 6, 2017
Dec 6, 2017 at 7:11 PM UTC
Spitting blood into the sink
from infected gums
who gives a **** anyway
about hopeless romantic love
Life is Happy, Life is Sad
a poem for any occasion
She abandoned desire way downtown
although the clock said she was aging
They had plans to leave Bangkok by train,
two seats they didn't fill
A wayfaring stranger without a name
prayed they never will
The music rang out like a shotgun blast
and stung like a scorpion's tail
There was nothing left to comprehend
just two diverging trails,
from me to you
