deepundergroundpoetry.com
Wasted
The kettle boiled with steaming deliverance,
redemption focused ambiguously into my rusty cup ,
awaiting a sub focused grasp for poisoned tranquility.
Hit after hit ,
my record player found pleasure in the midday fix.
Blues music sold ashtrays to rehabilitation centers,
permeating my addictive resemblance to day time romantics.
redemption focused ambiguously into my rusty cup ,
awaiting a sub focused grasp for poisoned tranquility.
Hit after hit ,
my record player found pleasure in the midday fix.
Blues music sold ashtrays to rehabilitation centers,
permeating my addictive resemblance to day time romantics.
Published 19th Nov 2013
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26th Nov 2013 4:32am
