|
| |
droughts perfect
We had both worked out
we deserve the blame,
for love that diminished
carving trees of our names.
Our little bark masterpieces
Little deep sculptures fading,
& our love keep perishing
like the strongest of droughts.
Once the candle wax melts
and pastry starts to crumble
and worn out is the belt
& the thunder loses its rumble,
white daisies are all trampled
when Life's no longer a jungle.
The light of your beautiful eyes
extinguishes as the candle dies,
and pain I always held inside
will suddenly burn and come alive.
We wish upon searing stars
we'll meet again, spark up the sky
Have the greatest sex, Cuban cigars
Wash to shore greatest of perfect days.
And all I touch will sear and fry
My Angel, I too now have died.
Copyright ©
RGH Poetry
|
|