Your pretty face,
all scattered in black,
back to the steel --
that's how they
disappeared you.
My emptiness is
measured in rust;
drenched in the rain
that'll soak your dust.
I've wrapped you in
the red wind-breaker
I've never owned,
hoping it'll change some--
--thing, anything at all.
That'll soak your dust.
Please, Please, tell me
you won't leave me be.
There's your voice
an ear-worm in my --
I wish you'd come back,
my little guy.
I'm such a degenerate
with you off of that
tight-rope I've found my--
--self on. Why'd you gone,
Where'd you gone, my son.
Where'd you gone, my sun.
Where'd you gone, my son.
Where'd, Why'd you gone.
That'll soak your dust.
Please, Please, tell me
you won't leave me be.
Feb 27, 2017
Feb 27, 2017 at 1:15 AM UTC
Your pretty face,
all scattered in black,
back to the steel --
that's how they
disappeared you.
My emptiness is
measured in rust;
drenched in the rain
that'll soak your dust.
I've wrapped you in
the red wind-breaker
I've never owned,
hoping it'll change some--
--thing, anything at all.
That'll soak your dust.
Please, Please, tell me
you won't leave me be.
There's your voice
an ear-worm in my --
I wish you'd come back,
my little guy.
I'm such a degenerate
with you off of that
tight-rope I've found my--
--self on. Why'd you gone,
Where'd you gone, my son.
Where'd you gone, my sun.
Where'd you gone, my son.
Where'd, Why'd you gone.
That'll soak your dust.
Please, Please, tell me
you won't leave me be.
Request permission to use this poem