Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jan 2014
As the clock keeps running,
My mind is too.
Late at night in my thoughts,
Is where you can find her
If she were to ever be lost.
Her eyes shocked me,
As if I put a fork in an outlet,
You learned your lesson but still so mesmerized by it.
My heart was beating as fast the beats to the love songs I would show her.
Like it was trying to escape my body for freedom or locked in a cage of sort.
Suddenly the paint bumps on the ceiling turned into stars.
And her smile turned to drugs,
So I stayed away from it,
Because with one hit I knew I would be hooked.
Fin.
Kenneth Beasley
Written by
Kenneth Beasley  Wisco
(Wisco)   
502
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems