Little B

He wears his wrinkled shirts unbottoned,
and his tennis shoes tied all the way.
Headphones hold his reeling head together,
and his hand grips an old cassette player,
an artifact that proves his hallucinations
were at one time almost believable.
He couldn’t be more than five-foot four,
stunted in one early childhood year,
perhaps nineteen eighty-nine.
Every trip he takes brings him to
some candy-toned Smurf village,
backdropped by a pink star-spangled sky.

In his other hand he carries a brown paper bag,
that for all this town could tell, might hold
a host of white rocks to sell, or
maybe just a peanut-butter and jelly.

Reviews

[Sorrow The Dark]

well written it flows well and it goes well, good job

[Yaooooooo]

Very well written.
Feel free to send me a request when ever you like...
Thanks for sharing...
One!