"guested" poems
It doesn't seem right
to own a private lake
but I've been guested
on grand estates
to more modest twenty acre piddles.
The common thread
the owners
all worry the taxes.
Feb 12, 2012
Feb 12, 2012 at 12:46 AM UTC
I never liked the color pink
It was too cheery for my taste
Yet here I had that flamingo drink
Not a drip or drop to waste
She wore it on her clothes
It was the color of her lips
It was shaded in her drugs
And on her fingertips
It was in the lights when she danced
And on the pole it grew
It was in her words when she glanced
Now I was pinkish too
They say one wears the brightest stars
When feeling like the moon
So many times I dreamed to ask
Yet it always seemed too soon
I could tell she guested hell
And filled it with pink glitter
I crushed it all with fairy gold
Not wanting to be bitter
I could tell that she was scared
But pride wouldn’t let her speak
She wouldn’t have her pink heart bared
Just left that in turned cheeks
She said, “Baby, let go,” with a wink
And that was when I knew
She was very pink
And I was very blue
Sep 25, 2018
Sep 25, 2018 at 12:54 PM UTC