Smiths Poems - Poems about Smiths

Gladys T. Smith was never happy or joyful about anything. Her life was full of drugs, needles, anger and hate. All three of her children wrote this obituary for the woman. The devil, who was our mother. She was not kind to a neighbor, stranger or pet. She used the belt when she could, chasing off anyone decent. We grew up...

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The word smiths are the poets and the writers. Sometimes they make your days even brighter. All because they can make your daily loads seem lighter. Yes the word smiths can either make you laugh, and smile. They can even succeed in making you cry. Causing salty tear drops to freely flow from your sorrow laden eyes. They can make your problems...

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Stone quarry Stone quarryman Stone worker Quarry worker Quarry labourer Stone mason Stone chisel Cold chisel Metal worker Whitesmith Silversmith Tinsmith Goldsmith Blacksmith Wordsmith; Black art Word art...

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Tap, rack, bang It's too late The gun jammed Wait Take my aim Breathe out flames You are damned Prey You're no mate You're a saint Use your hands Pray I am fake You create For your sake...

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She struggles with a pen She is castrated man Your manic, damned nightmare She's a dickless sychophant Overgeneralize You've fallen for a lie You're so hopelessly blind She wields you as a knife She will cut herself open She will make you stay, watch it She will do it again As long as you're her man You are not her boyfriend You are not her husband She is not...

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Sometimes I've got to ask- And can't help but exhort aloud Am I haunted, Rask? In this aging house Where my granny passed Grandpa died in this room Marks were left of you It's about time that I moved We have a little boy And a little girl Or am I paranoid? My bones ache just to stir My niece, My friend, And I In my bedroom My niece, My friend, And I Taking...

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They were haunting me And now they want to be Engraved In stone Somewhere But hardly will I share What they made me We aren't as open as they think We are closed books The writer waits for me Life is better when Those voices that you keep Sing in harmony Together, company And if you want to be like them Look like the innocent flower, but be the serpent underneath You...

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