Submissions by Ringounchained
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Dear Doris
we call him bum
Waste, human parasite lacks ambition
expects handouts lives hand mouth
has no house no kitchen
bum eats trash has most teeth missing
but he still manages to feed, love and smile
to his pet stray kitten and volunteers his time
at the local soup kitchen
lazy they call him because he is down on his luck
what they fail to know is that his wife died early last month
he sold all his furniture to lay her to rest in a box
no tombstone
he used her favorite angel figurine she picked out in the shop
and etched up across the top read...
Waste, human parasite lacks ambition
expects handouts lives hand mouth
has no house no kitchen
bum eats trash has most teeth missing
but he still manages to feed, love and smile
to his pet stray kitten and volunteers his time
at the local soup kitchen
lazy they call him because he is down on his luck
what they fail to know is that his wife died early last month
he sold all his furniture to lay her to rest in a box
no tombstone
he used her favorite angel figurine she picked out in the shop
and etched up across the top read...
597 reads
0 Comments
who knows but cold skin
Misunderstood, cool skin on hot blood
rage flashes red reminding me
of what I once was
who knows, but cold skin hot blood
thick skin cold blood
knuckles burn revealing emotions as I hold them clenched
reminiscing on memories I am not sure even exist
fog, haze I watch as the smoke rolls
out my mouth hole and blows from my nostrils
crutch
I laugh at this assumption
I don't need this weed to help to me function
I just need it to keep me from self combustion
hot blood cold skin
slight grin at the irony
I laugh at what upsets them...
rage flashes red reminding me
of what I once was
who knows, but cold skin hot blood
thick skin cold blood
knuckles burn revealing emotions as I hold them clenched
reminiscing on memories I am not sure even exist
fog, haze I watch as the smoke rolls
out my mouth hole and blows from my nostrils
crutch
I laugh at this assumption
I don't need this weed to help to me function
I just need it to keep me from self combustion
hot blood cold skin
slight grin at the irony
I laugh at what upsets them...
581 reads
1 Comment
DU Poetry : Submissions by Ringounchained
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