JerryB > Writing | WritersCafe.org | The Online Writing Community

he sat at the end of desperation one ink-black eye scanning floozy a black patch over socket dead his eye had been gouged out floozy was holdin..

This really happened . . .

I sit in the middle of the swamp its time-worn images of the past fresh in my thoughts a place where warning signs are posted here and there old,..

My two lost decades walking the mean streets of America searching for what I already had.

Just daydreaming here . . .

The bayou is calm, it's at peace, Green scum floats atop the water. I think about my first daughter, Is Paula alright or deceased? I've no..

A dark poem for a dark soul this day.