there it sits
wagging its tail
beneath the
rail that nails
poof out of.
a sloppy little
slant his eyes
make
sliding down his nose:
they can't hold
on to the roots
and weeds that
sculpt his face.
the place is dying
and cold crying
comes from the
slaughterhouse
back
yonder.
he is getting much
too old, and
the Dog.
A contest entry
- bring me to the core of sadness, the backbone of melancholy by Ryno.
600 points, ended January 4, 14 entries
Gold trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Any advice is welcome
Comments
1 - 5 of 5
-
Kind of cryptic but amazingly entertaining, is that weird? Nice observational poetry.
-
Oh em gee. (
) This was... so brilliant. How did your mind even come up with this?
That sadness... just like waiting for our own deaths.
Too brilliant. There isn't much more to say? Thanks for the entry. -
Freaking amazingly well-written.
-
you make me sad i had bacon this morning.
-
-
Adding your comment:
1 - 5 of 5
