Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
I can't give the raw edge, Of Life, a chance in words, flies away like birds, it is not mine, to give. like the amazon queen, who ****** for her **** (they sleep for now) they both crawl or limp out from behind the bustop* I can see the scars from her battles, starting with the nose on her face, working down her arms, and even her legs, he is an intense pair of eyes, Address mean street on repeat, as his looks are like darts, avoid eye contact, or there might be only two sounds he is porter, drags the bags for the both, they are looking for a home, as the hint, of cool morning dew tears, is fall, then winter Will chase at their heels, and his role as protector, will be tested against a cold-hearted enemy, in the open, they are on the hunt for a shelter to run the business, where he is lord, master, lover, And **** every day this merciful summer, it has been a different stop, bus or not every night under stars pinpoints, Not Needle Marks, but the Personal Crack Pipe, needs cleaning before the next use, like removing makeup from her skin, just to put it on again, And off, And on, as he banks the money, for commodities Street market loss or gain after all what is the price of crack ******* The raw cost, In the raw, her business attire, The raw edge, I have not lived, not mine to give. ©DWE092013
0
Sep 13, 2013
Sep 13, 2013 at 10:45 AM UTC
raw edge
I can't give the raw edge, Of Life, a chance in words, flies away like birds, it is not mine, to give. like the amazon queen, who ****** for her **** (they sleep for now) they both crawl or limp out from behind the bustop* I can see the scars from her battles, starting with the nose on her face, working down her arms, and even her legs, he is an intense pair of eyes, Address mean street on repeat, as his looks are like darts, avoid eye contact, or there might be only two sounds he is porter, drags the bags for the both, they are looking for a home, as the hint, of cool morning dew tears, is fall, then winter Will chase at their heels, and his role as protector, will be tested against a cold-hearted enemy, in the open, they are on the hunt for a shelter to run the business, where he is lord, master, lover, And **** every day this merciful summer, it has been a different stop, bus or not every night under stars pinpoints, Not Needle Marks, but the Personal Crack Pipe, needs cleaning before the next use, like removing makeup from her skin, just to put it on again, And off, And on, as he banks the money, for commodities Street market loss or gain after all what is the price of crack ******* The raw cost, In the raw, her business attire, The raw edge, I have not lived, not mine to give. ©DWE092013
*see "up the creek ...." Apr 3 "Two sounds" reference, you know, his fist hitting anyone's face and that face hitting the ground.
darrell-wade-elverum
Written by
Sep 13, 2013
Sep 13, 2013 at 10:45 AM UTC
Request permission to use this poem