sign that says stop
intersect forebode,
to wait until clear,
the air,
the fear,
the sky,
eyes, of those tears,
but what if becomes
cannot stop,
throwing pieces
off like they don't
belong and won't
stick around long
enough to be
reattached to rusted
vestige that used to
be human,
now rust stains
down the face,
empty carcass
after the fracas,
of living like there
was no tomorrow,
came
true.
©DWE102013
Oct 17, 2013
Oct 17, 2013 at 10:48 PM UTC
sign that says stop
intersect forebode,
to wait until clear,
the air,
the fear,
the sky,
eyes, of those tears,
but what if becomes
cannot stop,
throwing pieces
off like they don't
belong and won't
stick around long
enough to be
reattached to rusted
vestige that used to
be human,
now rust stains
down the face,
empty carcass
after the fracas,
of living like there
was no tomorrow,
came
true.
©DWE102013
Request permission to use this poem