A simmering fractured breath
Deliciously drawn
Permeates my lifeblood
Where fetid thoughts are born
An insincere promise
Impure, misfit ways
A venerated oath
Wanting crystal days.
Category: society
The Street I Lived, Poetry by Chey Laine
In the brilliance of the night
screaming believers rage the streets of plenty
looking for holes in hope
needles and thread they carry in the plenty
band aids won’t help here ~ friends
there’s more than enough of the ill and the lost to live on
and here with the wheelers and dealers
the screaming believers and do gooders’ and not so good at doing much
Is someones little taste of paradise
thats all gone to shit
