Beautiful Lies
A moment to moment
question of chance,
Or a preconceived notion
unzipping my pants.
Tell me again,
that lie that i believe.
Tell me it's June,
on all hallows eve.
Maybe it's the way you leave me,
all tethered for return.
Maybe it's the way you fall out;
your sexy crash and burn.
Poetry is not an expression of the party line. It's that time of night, lying in bed, thinking what you really think, making the private world public, that's what the poet does.
Allen Ginsberg (1926-1997) U.S. poet.
| Title | Comments | Submitted |
|---|---|---|
| Title | Comments | Submitted |
| Violator | 0 | 10/15/2009 |
| That Thing | 1 | 10/14/2009 |
| Fixation | 0 | 10/14/2009 |
| Beautiful Lies | 0 | 10/14/2009 |
| Rocket Science | 1 | 10/13/2009 |
| Oceans | 1 | 10/13/2009 |
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