Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
David W Clare Nov 2016
By: David W. Clare

It's so **** bizarre just like a Mickey Spillane novel now I grovel trying to unravel it all!

I used to think love is blind, now I know lust is blind. I don't know what love is and I don't mind...

I don't have no soul mate
Still I don't feel so great I'm not the dating kind...

Lust is blind or am I just torn like a wind blown rage from a worn out page like a cheap love romance sage?

All I know for sure is lust is blind...

(C) In perpetuity all rights reserved
(P) FilmNoirWorks
Film Noir poems by, d. Clare

— The End —