Los Angeles

There's no sign of sleet

Oh how a wonderful feat

That I take a seat

On the beach where I will meet

The waves crashing at my feet.

Comments

  1. PoorPiggDecember 18, 2016 at 1:53 PM

    OK, fine, you are getting the feel of letting loose. I do believe you are one step closer to being a lyricist.

    15 couplets broken into 5-5-5 as in Acts I, II, and III.

    ReplyDelete
  2. UnknownMay 2, 2018 at 9:07 AM

    I really like it when people get together and share ideas. Great website, keep it up! netflix sign in

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Time Again

Several years have come and gone To this, I've been left to fawn over thoughts of what's undone My time has come once more That I should bleed, feed, and pour my words of affliction or rather addiction Drain from me like a festered core An abscess growth that needs to purge Oozing a pain to abhor, rather than something to adore.  
Read more

The Last Clock: Therapy Session

  “I killed him,” the words came out of Jude with what felt to be the most honest statement she’s said in some time. “Who did you kill?” Her therapist Miriam responded with obvious words of concern. Miriam tried to catch Jude's eyes, but her gaze was locked onto the floor.  For a moment, only silence filled the room. It was only ten seconds, but both Jude and Miriam felt that it was time so thick that it needed to be severed with a knife.  “My dad,” she said at last, with a hollow tone. “Under normal circumstances I would have to report any acts of violence, but Jude, your father passed away in an unfortunate plane accident. It is normal for people to bear the guilt of responsibility during their time of grief, but you did not in anyway contribute to–” “Have you ever heard of The Last Clock?” Jude quickly interrupted. The look upon her face was one of distress, as if pleading for someone to finally connect with her. Yet, even with this plea, her focus never left from the spot on th
Read more

One of the Lucky Ones

Born to a generation of limited technology Scorned by the realization of growing calamity I'm the first of my kind Living mentally blind A pioneer through my annals of time Hard work is what it took To live like a storybook But this concept's now hollow Taken away by those that don't follow Robbing all of us whole As we keep paying the toll Life quickly becomes static, pragmatic, and dull Siphoned of all including the soul But I'm one of the lucky ones I was not dealt the hardships of war Merely made poor, something I abhor Yet still, I'm one of the lucky ones I was not jailed because of my skin My gender didn't call the beatings to begin My sexuality never viewed as a sin Born a minority with issues within This culture acceptance came from my appearance Non-threatening they say allowed for perseverance No weapon was drawn through my incoherence No worries to grow about a disappearance. I was jailed for my ignorance, Beaten for
Read more