Dilapidated Old Detective
Rain slapping me in the face as i contiued to cross the street...
Hardest the pain from slaps of rain, excruciating jolts thru down to my legs.
I pray to the almighty God-stop this pain, Relief cannot overcome
such suffering, no matter how much i ask or beg.My red Volvo seems as miles
as the rain is relentless and does not seem to want to give up or in.This skin
which is a whitened thin wrinkled of a prunish olden dog.
Wind is made up of icy daggers to skin originating from this one individual's
genetic of make-up, or cold icy personna.This ancient dinasaur'd body is filled up
with a hoarse raspy id.Of this to you i surely
do not kid.A gumshoe detective is bent by nature's affronts.Time well spent
wasted to years of hard booze-makes for a lost life of respect and loved by any to
lose.These doggs are overly heated and like a giant annaconda needs to be
released and free to shed it's old dilapidated old skin.Lest ye quits-No longer'd
may sin.I am not a detective who is not at all respected or very much thoughtful
reflective.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
