Sour mash chard of poverty,
pungent stenches fill the winds
People on the verge of toxicity,
still the city chugs and spawns
I make my way amongst broken streets,
thoughts a muck, my dregs to this life
Looking for a penny heads up,
no one caring to spare a cent
Gaping maw of modern technology,
the iron beast to mock the simple man
It taunts the rich, flaunts to the poor
easier access to a larger world of sin
Alas, I too am spellbound,
tied to the other life that promises, that awaits
A delicacy of unemployed inebriation,
garnished with the goddesses of ill repute
~Nikki~
Author notes
Written July 20th, 2005
In a list
A contest entry
- down the pike by .
400 points, ended July 25, 2005, 5 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
What did you think
Comments
1 - 6 of 6
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This is beyond outstanding! I love it. Powerful and deep. Way to go Lady
Blessings, Gypsy
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Classical and beautiful
Keep writing, I loved the persona you adopted here Thanks for your comment I liked the atmosphere in this poem 
All the best,
Pozo
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Thanks Dee! I changed it because I realized not only were you right, but it also did not fit the era of the piece and picture I believe! Again, THANK YOU!
~Nikki~ -
Really good! *Thumbs up*
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I like this piece, it fits the picture quite well. The only thing I have to say is, not a brother to spare a dime, even though not verbatim to the much used original phrase is still cliché. Other than that, nice write.
~Dee -
I do like the way you write. I am a big fan of free verse, so that alone deserves brownie points from me, but your style... the thought you put into your work that makes it so uniquely you... that has great appeal to me. You did a fabulous job here. Good luck in the contest!
♥ Kimberly
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