i gather up and snort
these poetry lines
scribbled on napkins
or lost in my mind,
take it all in,
one line at a time
remind--
of a time when my mind
was fine--
without the line
when i was not afraid to cry-
when i was not afraid to die-
like a sign,
like a conversation with a mime...
all this time- these hotel walls,
waste away like porcelain dolls
like these walls could talk,
not waste or stall,
tear all the paper
and write on the walls.
i'm lost in the cable,
sharp incisions
keeps me lying like
politicians..
its the hotel paper,
that these words fall on,
catch them later,
they wont fall off..
one shot to the head,
the lines follow soon,
burning the paper,
in a hotel room.
A contest entry
- one day ;; contest. by Kathraina.
400 points, ended October 28, 15 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
What do you think?
Comments
-
oooh very intriguing take on the prompt! i love the tale you've woven here, the imagery unfolded clearly in my mind's eye.
bravo and thank you for entering
♥ kate -
vert origanal and i do not know if you ment is but poetry is as addicting as cocaine very good write
good luck and good writing
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