Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
It was the summer my feet tanned like a gladiator, my coliseum was more a city piled on dirt, dust, trash and under that; sand. It was a desert summer though pollution and global warming stole the 'dry heat' notion, burned it up between layers of humidity and buried it under the city- down to sand that touched jewels and biblical lust. sometimes I ate pigeons and sometimes I ate McDonald's. sometimes I was in love and sometimes I cried myself to sleep. my eyes were brown, my skin was dark and my accent was convincing. I could have been anybody tiptoeing between past-dead hatchbacks and stray cats- any lonely girl with sleep in her eyes and fogged up sunglasses, so why did I stay me?
0
Dec 16, 2013
Dec 16, 2013 at 10:33 PM UTC
Gypsy, Seventeen, Deeply Unhappy
It was the summer my feet tanned like a gladiator, my coliseum was more a city piled on dirt, dust, trash and under that; sand. It was a desert summer though pollution and global warming stole the 'dry heat' notion, burned it up between layers of humidity and buried it under the city- down to sand that touched jewels and biblical lust. sometimes I ate pigeons and sometimes I ate McDonald's. sometimes I was in love and sometimes I cried myself to sleep. my eyes were brown, my skin was dark and my accent was convincing. I could have been anybody tiptoeing between past-dead hatchbacks and stray cats- any lonely girl with sleep in her eyes and fogged up sunglasses, so why did I stay me?
also written Fall 2010.
Kiernan515
Written by
American
Dec 16, 2013
Dec 16, 2013 at 10:33 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem