Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
I know I dreamed of you

so shoot me
bury me in an unmarked grave

and in a 1,000 years
archeologists will dig me up
only to discover
a dusty pitcher of margaritas
still cold

the ashes
of a half smoke cuban cigar

and the picture of you.
if you go down forgotten streets
where the lights push the nightmares aside

and travel down
some forgotten dreams
to hear the melody
and are drawn in
by the strumming of guitar strings

and there on the stage
a heart walking a wire
with a sad smile of thunder and rain
that rolls you like tumbling dice

and if you believe in love at first glance
and listen with a young heart
you'll hear the wind and stardust
that she's chasing in her song
Well I ain't stinking rich
And I ain't stinking poor
I guess what's important is
I'm still here stinking
And I ain't a pile of manure.
Bit of fun.
Next page