deepundergroundpoetry.com

Christmas.

We used to dance.
With each other.
When there was noone there.

Singing nothings to each other.
In whispered jokes.
And, know me nots.

You told me it.
Didnt matter.
How I looked.
Just had to.
Move  to the beat.
Comes up sometimes when.
I'm lonely.
Mom.

Like some old Motown Song.
Dull hum on a record player.
The tube television.
Static and syndication

And I don't wanna know.
If it was a dream.
Or not.

Cause, I"m still there I hope.
Dancing til I'm dead.

Coulda been something beautiful.
And,
It sure is nostalgic
Written by Nil (Nolan)
Published
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