Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jun 2019
One,
I count the suns
Two,
I blew a fuse
Three,
Call me if you will a tweenk
Four,
No, I'm a bore
Five, What is jive?
Six, I think I need a fix
Seven,
I guess I'll get the muslim heaven
Eight,
I just want a taste
Nine,
I bet I go blind
Ten,
I like to think I'm hep as in sen-sen
there I counted to ten,
with justification
now I'll lose my temper without
supplication.
Written by
Charles Sturies
127
   Fawn and Bogdan Dragos
Please log in to view and add comments on poems