Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
emmaline-ePoems
Mud puddles Seeping Is that mud? Nah, prob’ly jus’ … Just what? He thought for a while, Adjusting the stance Of his cigar between his thin lips, Barely covering the hole in his face. In the dank silence, I stared, and began to wonder… How could he stand it? The noisome smoke, Right under his nose- The rough texture On lips that could not quite afford anymore sand-papering… He took a drag, finally looked back down, and answered. It’s mud. We both knew it wasn’t mud, But the foulness that seems to follow The human wherever he Would wander…. As I contemplated, he spat, And added his own contribution.
0
May 30, 2013
May 30, 2013 at 2:24 AM UTC
Mud Puddles
Mud puddles Seeping Is that mud? Nah, prob’ly jus’ … Just what? He thought for a while, Adjusting the stance Of his cigar between his thin lips, Barely covering the hole in his face. In the dank silence, I stared, and began to wonder… How could he stand it? The noisome smoke, Right under his nose- The rough texture On lips that could not quite afford anymore sand-papering… He took a drag, finally looked back down, and answered. It’s mud. We both knew it wasn’t mud, But the foulness that seems to follow The human wherever he Would wander…. As I contemplated, he spat, And added his own contribution.
the first poem I wrote this year for a creative writing class
emmaline-e
Written by
emmaline-e
May 30, 2013
May 30, 2013 at 2:24 AM UTC
Request permission to use this poem