Wednesday, April 08, 2009

Poetry and Prose...

"Future"

Laying down my head
on a slab of concrete pillows
still and
motionless

with fear and anger
blistering in the sun of
a thousand fireflies surrounding
the clouded air.

All alone.

dreaded anger lingers the mind
where do I turn, who do I
turn to?

The beer bottle is my genie bottle.
suffocated breaths as I take gulp by gulp
I stare drunk eyed at the emptied demon rum

"Where are my three wishes"?

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