It's a crying shame
That on these days away from work
When we laugh and play,
fuck and plan,
& drink eat dance
our way through the lazy seconds
that hang like rain never
fully fallen
There's this ghost of haunts
Reminding me of the coming week
And all the tiny deaths
that come along for the ride
7/27/14
YOU ARE READING
Typed Word Series
PoetryWords connect all of us. Through laughter, memories, or ridiculous melancholy, we are what we say and what we write. TWS differs from WWS in form only. These are poems longer than 7 lines, allowing a little more freedom in exploring themes and more...
