Read Poems by Wesley Roach

  

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Potential Vice

I stole Father Time's clock and took out the grains, cooked 'em up, tied off, then shot it into me vein.

And now I'm bleeding.


I took Mother Nature's goods and ingested 'em whole, started trippin, lead to flippin, walkin lost in snow.

So now I'm screaming.


I got Farmer John's spuds put 'em in still, fermented fast, tastes like gas, now I'm guiding a wheel.

My car is weaving.


I grabbed Smith n Wesson steel, it tested nice and right, applied some pressure to the trigger, now it's gettin real tight.

Goodbye I'm leaving.

Copyright © Wesley Roach | Year Posted 2015