Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
Caught myself in a cart wheeled stance, gazing fondly at a soiled sky A homeless man calmly rants, preaching to every passerby Follicles dry up, flaking off bits of skin Wayward into a cup, stuck in teeth, accompanying the grin Inferences read by a measly pauper, picked up after a quick popper The fuel fed, deemed improper, drained from the canyon by a local proctor Repeated references to a world of old Stored on dust filled shelves until sold Spoke too much fancy for one to understand, blindly making it hard to comprehend Lack of knowledge for the reprimand, timely practices seem to suspend Going to try and be still, maybe close my eyes Sleep on the lull of a hill, quick to rise Told of Grimm lit tales of horror and abuse, held in spectrums casting light Reordered for disorderly misuse, clouded by traces of spite The jabberwocky speaks before the crowd, shrouded in the misconception of a dreamed up word. Hastened into speaking loud, the message soon becomes absurd Words are falling out in a cyclical lexicon, adjusting themes to fit complacent lives Illiterate Satanists sit in their hexagon, purging everything that thrives A final thought implies just that, I have more faith in this thieving rat
0
Nov 9, 2014
Nov 9, 2014 at 6:47 PM UTC
A Collection Of Nonsense
Caught myself in a cart wheeled stance, gazing fondly at a soiled sky A homeless man calmly rants, preaching to every passerby Follicles dry up, flaking off bits of skin Wayward into a cup, stuck in teeth, accompanying the grin Inferences read by a measly pauper, picked up after a quick popper The fuel fed, deemed improper, drained from the canyon by a local proctor Repeated references to a world of old Stored on dust filled shelves until sold Spoke too much fancy for one to understand, blindly making it hard to comprehend Lack of knowledge for the reprimand, timely practices seem to suspend Going to try and be still, maybe close my eyes Sleep on the lull of a hill, quick to rise Told of Grimm lit tales of horror and abuse, held in spectrums casting light Reordered for disorderly misuse, clouded by traces of spite The jabberwocky speaks before the crowd, shrouded in the misconception of a dreamed up word. Hastened into speaking loud, the message soon becomes absurd Words are falling out in a cyclical lexicon, adjusting themes to fit complacent lives Illiterate Satanists sit in their hexagon, purging everything that thrives A final thought implies just that, I have more faith in this thieving rat
charles-lutwidge-dodgson
Written by
Nov 9, 2014
Nov 9, 2014 at 6:47 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem