Short Erasable Poems

living in the shadow 
the shadow of shame 
one little slip
and all of it goes away
don't expect change by not
changing your self
Work hard for your living 
and remember nothing 
is erasable...

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one chance at history
                                                                     inscribed in eternity
                                                                             erasable...

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Words are easy
Words are cheap
Hard to swallow
With tongue in cheek

A clap for wonder
A clap of praise
Left to wander
An endless maze

Broken promise
Broken trust
Words hid under
Flaky crusts

Crush the honour
Hush the scream
Take the objects
Please leave the dreams....

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Visions unendurable
Thoughts not erasable
Tracers of red
Running through my heard

Yellow smoke for the dust off
Brings tears
Death and destruction
Memories of loss

Haunting images
Ghosts haunting me
Blood on my hands
Unable to clean

Youth destroyed
By war
Hate and anger
Unknown to me

Until The War

Tribute To All Veterans on
Veterans Day...

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Memorial Day 2016
Written: by Tom Wright

Each Memorial Day is like a magnet
That holds captive, my thoughts,
Of those before me who didn’t return,

And to those who returned
That war has left un-erasable footprints on.

War has a way of accomplishing that,
For there is no reversal of things done, seen,
Or clearing your nostrils of the foulness of war;
...

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Memorial Day 2016
Written: by Tom Wright

Each Memorial Day is like a magnet
That holds captive, my thoughts,
Of those before me who didn’t return,

And to those who returned
That war has left un-erasable footprints on.

War has a way of accomplishing that,
For there is no reversal of things done, seen,
Or clearing your nostrils of the foulness of war;
...

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Her erasable brain has never let her down.
After information is used, it no longer hangs around.
She memorizes all kinds of junk for a weird math test.
Not keeping one ounce of this knowledge ahead of the rest.
Details she cares barely two whits and a neck about,
Rarely comes prancing forward, forth or back out.
She never knows if she will use these equations again.
Not cluttering her brain is her ultimate end....

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Messages scribbled on the bathroom stall 
I can't even comprehend it all
The number is fake
And I never met Jake
But that interpretational art has got my attention
I think there's something I forgot to mention
I scribbled my poems in erasable ink
And some one has changed them 
With a marker that's pink
I believe his words right
So my pen says goodnight
Farewell to all
Its always the same in 
The End



***No one will read this crap anyways***...

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My pencil’s waiting patiently
To transfer what I think
Onto pages in my notebook
(More erasable than ink).

It follows my commands and yet
The words are then erased,
Rejected for another round
With which they are replaced.

This No. 2 is not at fault
If I don’t want to write
Of sickness, aging or the news,
Or any other plight.

And thus I jot a little rhyme,
So I’m not out of joint,
To get my pencil working
For, of course, that is its point.
...

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