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Scribbler : Writing

Cafe

Cafe

A Poem by Scribbler


There was a man with a fedora he was reading literature outside the cafeI didn't know whether to ask him kindly for a cigarette or to ask him to keep ..
Dirt

Dirt

A Poem by Scribbler


I watch as her boots kick up dirt.She slides her feet across the roadand I am the one to taste the dirt firstHer body is moving eagerly to the silence..
October

October

A Poem by Scribbler


Don't you hate it? I sure do.You tried to hone a rusted razor that you had set aside for moments like those.Although, those moments haven't seen much ..