deepundergroundpoetry.com
Untitled Words
Sittin here on my chair,,, writin
got the tv off
the doors & windows open
listenin to the sound of the birds
the last days of winters breezes
blowin through house and home
it smells an feels good
my good blanket pulled up & comfy
keepin this young old mans bones
warm like a smoldered fire
Jasper layin on the ground
next to me,
chewin on an empty 2 litter bottle I had just finished drinkin
makin me throw it,
he chases it, comes back
lays down & chews some more on it,
As I sit here
with words untitled, floatin through mine head
listenin to the language of the birds
singing me to sleep
here, on my comfy chair
got the tv off
the doors & windows open
listenin to the sound of the birds
the last days of winters breezes
blowin through house and home
it smells an feels good
my good blanket pulled up & comfy
keepin this young old mans bones
warm like a smoldered fire
Jasper layin on the ground
next to me,
chewin on an empty 2 litter bottle I had just finished drinkin
makin me throw it,
he chases it, comes back
lays down & chews some more on it,
As I sit here
with words untitled, floatin through mine head
listenin to the language of the birds
singing me to sleep
here, on my comfy chair
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