Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
What you doin' there, Left-eye? seems you got me confused with somebody else. standing there cock-lacked with surance like a stand, a bird-tooth, a shelf. your minory flagrance the runge-jakes, your fiery holes for birth. I'm happy enough in the meaningless, a taxi, directless and first. I doubt in the walls like a showdown. I drink the saloon like it's fate. I'll shave all the mis-hands from struggle, and pretend I can wake before eight. you wither the real when it's comfy. you dote on the fair like a lake. The wrestling season is over. We won out, the Golden Mistake.
0
Dec 16, 2013
Dec 16, 2013 at 4:21 AM UTC
no need to wish
What you doin' there, Left-eye? seems you got me confused with somebody else. standing there cock-lacked with surance like a stand, a bird-tooth, a shelf. your minory flagrance the runge-jakes, your fiery holes for birth. I'm happy enough in the meaningless, a taxi, directless and first. I doubt in the walls like a showdown. I drink the saloon like it's fate. I'll shave all the mis-hands from struggle, and pretend I can wake before eight. you wither the real when it's comfy. you dote on the fair like a lake. The wrestling season is over. We won out, the Golden Mistake.
keith-ren
Written by
American
Dec 16, 2013
Dec 16, 2013 at 4:21 AM UTC
Request permission to use this poem