Hello PoetryVoting

Vote

Voting-Boards

Home

HomeFollowingInboxNotifications

Read

ReadLiftedFeedsHeartedHistoryMy poemsNew poem

Explore

ExploreOrbitsWordsTagsClassics
Log in
0
Stars
0
Embers
0
Alerts
0
Inbox

Vote

Voting-Boards

Home

HomeFollowingInboxNotifications

Read

ReadLiftedFeedsHeartedHistoryMy poemsNew poem

Explore

ExploreOrbitsWordsTagsClassics
Log in
0
Stars
0
Embers
0
Alerts
0
Inbox

Havana Hes Got Soul

Every time I hear you play this I think that we're out walking, talk talking Daydream talking like it's nothing It's 1am we're getting coffee We're going to smoke our packs empty Drink drinking ourselves to sleep Well don't you know it's already third time this week Once in an empty house, right by the window You asked me if I'd hold your hand, I said of course I'd love too And when you thanked me, you said It's what I miss most about her Now I'm talking to Havana God damn' he's got soul You shouldn't treat him so cold from collective to a man of grief Come on Havana is that what you want to see? So as I’m walking back to my car, from the corner of an old market bar Next to me walks a man of grief Smoking a Havana soul cigar He reminds me to keep my head up high, and the only limit is the sky So now I keep my head held high I keep it right towards that honey yellow sky
Request permission to use this poem
Written by
chad-a-dolezal
American
Published
Jun 18, 2011
Lines·Words
26·180
Permission

Request to use this poem

Tell chad-a-dolezal how you would like to use it. We review requests before forwarding them.

AboutBlogFAQPrivacyTermsContact
© 2009-2026 Hello Poetry/v27.0 by @eliotyork
Explore
Hello PoetryVoting
Write