poem

the process make you weak makes you lose reach
the out come is more than future less than past
the walls loose paper open fire smell burning tyre
the shade reflect grey shapes twisted thoughts

moody skies in the shadows of a tenement
moody steps walks runs same movements
moody reflection the puddle a heart beat
moody stair eyes that look out to and from

[my words lee smillie]

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s