sadness grinds with me,
down to the pools of tanned waters,
and i can never tell why such in me embed,
could the clue lie in the wake of her smile?
or in the coldness of her heart?
left to drown down tots,
whisky lullabies oozing from the jukebox,
all that warmth now gone,
walk in green gardens now a forgoten venture,
now a stuffy bar,
stained glasses for the lips,
hard liqour for the throat,
and all that smoke for the lungs
in day break she shall remember,
valentine was tragic,
which whore do you write about today? carla, rhianne, or the troopers wife?
ReplyDeleteThat that tore my heart
ReplyDelete