Poetry Forum

Noyan.B.Dhauga - all messages by user

9/14/2012 10:45:08 AM
Constructive criticism appreciated	They've hung on him a For sale tag He's wearing a stale old plastic bag And the rest of him is in rags The whole world passes by him Stops and stares, or points at whim Mad Marley stands there everyday Without a job without the pay He knew no place but where he stood On that busy trafficked crossing road He was waiting for something to happen there Perhaps the justice that the judges couldn't spare Of some long forgotten clash of cars That had claimed his life and all its hours So there he stood all the time As the crowd of cars grew in line Then one day, a day like any other He saw a car hit another And out fell a man, the man with the scar Who had killed his wife and children with his car A drop of blood trickled down the man's nose Mirroring Mad Marley's teardrops as he rose He removed his for sale tag and plastic bag Took out the bullet that, for these 18 years he had, had And the rusted barrel of the gun He had sworn he would use to avenge his son Mad Marley fell on the pavement alone and dead With the bullet lodged inside his head
pages: 1

9/14/2012 10:45:08 AM

They've hung on him a For sale tag

He's wearing a stale old plastic bag

And the rest of him is in rags

The whole world passes by him

Stops and stares, or points at whim

Mad Marley stands there everyday

Without a job without the pay

He knew no place but where he stood

On that busy trafficked crossing road

He was waiting for something to happen there

Perhaps the justice that the judges couldn't spare

Of some long forgotten clash of cars

That had claimed his life and all its hours

So there he stood all the time

As the crowd of cars grew in line

Then one day, a day like any other

He saw a car hit another

And out fell a man, the man with the scar

Who had killed his wife and children with his car

A drop of blood trickled down the man's nose

Mirroring Mad Marley's teardrops as he rose

He removed his for sale tag and plastic bag

Took out the bullet that, for these 18 years he had, had

And the rusted barrel of the gun

He had sworn he would use to avenge his son

Mad Marley fell on the pavement alone and dead

With the bullet lodged inside his head

pages: 1