Erie

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  • Life

    Erie

    Erie is so left
    to truly find erie
    you must see no
    withering metal,
    left on his
    wooden bed,
    erie left after
    his lashes made
    unnatural love,
    right now he's
    desperate for it's
    warmth again,
    for erie left
    wondering where he's at,
    erie is stumbling into
    the kitchen for soup,

    Erie is so left
    to truly find him
    you must see no sun light,
    left behind the
    old market towered
    on each side,
    erie left to ask
    the regulars through
    sign language,
    right now in search
    to find his rescue
    down the party aisles,
    for erie left
    wondering where he's at,
    erie is stumbling into the park for,

    Erie is so left
    to truly find him
    you must see no dry tears
    on his crimson heart metal,
    left by yesterdays
    80 proof salvation,
    erie left yellow
    cascading falls on the
    wall before punching out,
    right back he gulps
    today’s summer potion
    next to his iron pillow,
    erie no longer marches
    to the stars he's home


    copyright All Rights ReservedMCN#
    76477-OEM-0011903-00102Luis G. Pizarro II

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    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.

    Gusta22’s Poems (17)

    Title Comments
    Title Comments
    Bird Calls 1
    Erie 0
    Twister 0
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    Lie Like Frank 0
    Touch 1
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    No-Body 0
    The One 0
    Word Marriage 0
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    One Day Dissever Part I 0
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    One Day Dissever Part II 0
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