deepundergroundpoetry.com
Ode to the poor mans friend
Hands cracked as dried soap
bloody, battered
working out on the dust
its hard and still
a whisper of a geared wagon
tickles the ear of the fickle man
it is he... the man who points
he checks his list and nods
the man receives his daily remuneration
crackle of the sand, paves the way
to a tin roof collective
where blurry eyed gentlemen line the plaster
the fickle man trades his social note
for a golden friend
bloody, battered
working out on the dust
its hard and still
a whisper of a geared wagon
tickles the ear of the fickle man
it is he... the man who points
he checks his list and nods
the man receives his daily remuneration
crackle of the sand, paves the way
to a tin roof collective
where blurry eyed gentlemen line the plaster
the fickle man trades his social note
for a golden friend
Published 15th Feb 2012
| Edited 27th Feb 2012
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 0
reading list entries 0
comments 0
reads 587
Commenting Preference:
The author encourages honest critique.
