Summer of hangovers
"My wallet is depressed"
Dark and dirty alleys
Forget the rest and get undressed
Sharp and lonely allies
"A girl like you goes to church?"
You can tell me all the lies
But the distance doesn't work
In truth I didn't try
But what's a lover worth?
At least a damn reply
I'm sorry, I'm a jerk
Truthfully, a couple drinks
And I'm already at my worst
I so enjoyed your company
But put impatience first
"In the interest of honesty"
You just can't bear to be with me
I guess that's fair, but truthfully
Is there ever a guarantee?
Lust, like dust, disappears on a breeze
Love takes longer
Feel free to disagree
Found you on a bench outside
Underneath a tree
Dark and dirty allies
Make poor mates, truthfully
About the author
Ivy Rozen
Writer and poet with published articles, email campaigning experience, teaching experience, and a completed poetry residency with Free Verse, where I finished my first book of poems, Runcation, on sale now at www.IvanaWrites.com
the wind tells stories, and its good at it too
The wind tells stories. It’s good at it too, better than anything I could ever contrive. With every wisp of a breeze that touches the human senses, you are gifted pictures, memories and glimpses of a spoken, invaluably real world. Yes. Of course a spoken world is audible; even by the means of the mysterious invisible movements that rustle leaves, erode mountains, and destroy peaceful dwellings simply with its breath. How old is the wind? How old is the lore it has carried to the ears of mankind since the Earth was born?
By Cosette Alize7 days ago in Earth
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.