StoriesA Poem by Tenten
In the blessed drop of glazed eyes Conversing over dead babies And the ones covered in numbers Create a creation of beauty In fear moments The sound of red painted cement stairs Buried in thick soul footsteps Broken doors and standing half nude He's bleeding to death in a cold water shower Sounds still echoing in the Unmeasured time later A woman bearing emptiness inside Did those following souls find peaceful sleep? And a bodies rotting with the company Of once known faces In a rain filled ditch Red life washed away in the cold spray
© 2008 TentenAuthor's Note
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1 Review Added on December 8, 2008 AuthorTentenAlamosa, COAboutI know me well enough to know that I don't who I truly am and that I deceive myself into believing i have found my way in life. i well away of the fact that i am a contradiction of actions and words a.. more..Writing
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