#deathofpoetry
She will die
Her legacy will dilate
She will diarise
Her dire straits
On diamond slates
She will die a dilute of what was once a concentrate.
Contemplate what her cons can connotate but exonerate all thoughts which harbour hate.
No, she is not a saint.
No, she is not a villain.
Oh she has made me great and
So she will make my children
Jun 24, 2014
Jun 24, 2014 at 4:39 PM UTC
I'm old now
though they say I'm not
I only notice when my
back isn't sore
as it is here
reaching for the last
shelf of the final bookstore
the only still standing
woolly mammoth
and it's poetry, the writing worth no money
so no one bought,
silly ideas of love married fraught
all other ideas fall between the lines
of valentine hearts and blood clots
Aug 16, 2017
Aug 16, 2017 at 5:45 PM UTC