~ A Prodigal Boy ~
A Poem by
Misery
Once I...
Was a boy who
Toyed with time
Scattered it wide
Wasted it sublime
Spilled it like brine
From a cistern;
Now time...
Has taken its turn
For it spills me
Like sour beef
Or rancid meat
In putrid heaps
Where pyres burn.
--Misery
© 2018 Misery
Reviews
Lessons are often learned in hindsight. You and time are not yet through with one another. I've missed you my friend.
Posted 6 Years Ago
1 of 1 people found this review constructive.
6 Years Ago
It's good to see your words again, my friend. Thank you for the encouragement.
what is important is the realization that comes after that is what is important
Posted 6 Years Ago
what is important is the realization that comes after that is what is important
1 of 1 people found this review constructive.
6 Years Ago
Yes, to learn and understand what has happened. Thank you for the review, dear poet.
Dramatic, dark and hauntingly good.
Posted 6 Years Ago
Dramatic, dark and hauntingly good.
1 of 1 people found this review constructive.
6 Years Ago
Thank you, dear poet. Your words are deeply appreciated.
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185 Views
3 Reviews
Added on June 12, 2018
Last Updated on June 12, 2018
Author
Misery AZ
About
Just a Lost Poet (no patrons; no diplomas; no institutions; no grants), stranded upon a heap of one thousand dog-eared poems - words born of miseries witnessed in many lives and landscapes.
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Writing