147 BreakA Poem by Lonesome TravelerGlittering spark. Gunpowder cage year of the ages. Not for no lark.
Scuffed felt. Lingering damp truly set camp. Your hand is dealt.
Fleeting gasp. Desperate dance a unknown chance. But lower the mast.
© 2013 Lonesome Traveler |
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Lonesome TravelerUnited KingdomAboutYoung, British and naive going on cynical. Searching for the right path, and all that mother jazz. " Pass the parcel, sometimes that's all you can do. Take it, feel it, and pass it on. Not for me, .. more..Writing
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