fuck grappling for your attention
this is not my mountain to climb
what do you matter anyway?
how are you?
she fell apart this morning.
sorrow was but a spider down the drain.
nothing more to report, sir.
but its okay, no voice to this violence
that hesitantly rides crest waves
daisies head lulled
swayed and nodded
bobbling a stem of dirt,
but nothing more than a skirt
playing the tricks of light
pick me, pick me
heavy heals clicked as she walked away
Author notes
eh. maybe you will like it maybe you wont. what does it matter?
A contest entry
- - by hilly.
2724 points, ended April 10, 2008, 6 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
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i like the way you approach witing
a fever id love to catch
nice work here
peace -
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thanks (:
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