Franziska

A Poem by Simon Welsh

Cold coffee with the need of cigarettes

Gliding on the mist of a bourgeois pauper
Such contradictions never matter with such style
A depressing thought that never leaves my dreams
yet pure as old china in a trinket shop
You wear my depression well

I'm hungover upon a wave of lost sleep
Cold coffee with the need of cigarettes
You are nowhere yet somehow everywhere
maybe paint my mind with a palette of monochrome
You wear that smile well

Make my days hollow
and may your seasons be blessed
Oh, you kitten
a ballroom dancer for the ghosts
of past fiction fantasies

I'm the keys on an ancient piano
Always gathering dust, never making a sound
May my memories emanate within your early mornings
the less you hear of me, the more I fall into disrepair
You wear the fields and oceans well...

© 2013 Simon Welsh

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Robbie~xoxo~

Let me tell you a little secret, Elliott... you are one of my favorite writers here..
Besides my sweet Eli, you are a true poet... one that writes with novelty (perhaps through jaded eyes)...

Genius stream of thoughts flow from you pen.... Yes indeed, you are a little gem...
you don't call attention to yourself....(so nobody knows as well as I do....not yet anyway) ;)

Stunning write!~xoxo~