Get Your Premium Membership

Uncle Melvin

I walk these halls As gallows mock With framed pastels blind Where mother left behind And father said "freak" You're no son of mine Alone among the Rockwells Lined-up of someone else's Many celebrated lives I guess that's because Mister Norman Bates Really never learned how to paint And if he had I'd be there Hung up in the blackest black For the whole damned world to see! So now it's red or blue for breakfast And mystery meat in between But, all I have to say is... Where the hell's the ecstasy?!

Copyright © | Year Posted 2013




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

A comment has not been posted for this poem. Encourage a poet by being the first to comment.


Book: Reflection on the Important Things