Crazy Boy

A man with talent
39
seriously deranged
stalks the city stores for stones
he runs and throws away
certain colors, certain days
into water, the water calls
this boy is so far gone
he forgets his books and diplomas
he tries to read but the hot high voices
echo
he runs he's thin, music plays in his head
yet stones, he can't get enough
coats with pockets hold him down
head down to the wind
Copyright © | Year Posted 2015

Poem

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February 13, 2015 at 4:23 PM
Stoned man by past chance not self weighted but still listens to Time waits for no man !
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