The Borders
The road to hell is grid locked
while heavens all express lanes
theres never was a bullet train to pain
nor a single clock in the darkest pits
all they play is uno down there
don't ask me why
in paradise they play chess
on boards with golden flecks like the masters eye
Copyright © Casey Williamson | Year Posted 2011
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment