Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
rasmus-hammarbergPoems
I'm a running kind of guy Hopping through cigarette smoke with an open heart Grasping every cloud with my fingertips Gripping nothing but air A fine man photographing tequila sunrises to send to his beloved Waiting endlessly by the shore And he just can't see why her phone is dripping Drenched like his throat (He only drinks when he wants to) When the right time strikes Never checks the time unless the hands hold wine And light his cigarette A vagabond Some would say Bumming rides and stealing nickels Thinking the essence is different If spelled in French A running freight train Aiming for the hill for Mulholland where no one knows his name He's alive kicking and screaming Raging through the night And crying in the morning When he lies sweaty And watches the sun rise Says **** *** to his shadow And turns around Just an ******* Enjoying his ****** life.
0
Mar 19, 2013
Mar 19, 2013 at 4:40 PM UTC
Where Love is but a Name
I'm a running kind of guy Hopping through cigarette smoke with an open heart Grasping every cloud with my fingertips Gripping nothing but air A fine man photographing tequila sunrises to send to his beloved Waiting endlessly by the shore And he just can't see why her phone is dripping Drenched like his throat (He only drinks when he wants to) When the right time strikes Never checks the time unless the hands hold wine And light his cigarette A vagabond Some would say Bumming rides and stealing nickels Thinking the essence is different If spelled in French A running freight train Aiming for the hill for Mulholland where no one knows his name He's alive kicking and screaming Raging through the night And crying in the morning When he lies sweaty And watches the sun rise Says **** *** to his shadow And turns around Just an ******* Enjoying his ****** life.
rasmus-hammarberg
Written by
rasmus-hammarberg
Swedish
Mar 19, 2013
Mar 19, 2013 at 4:40 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem