ChippedA Poem by Monday Parker
Warped Abandon religions Forgotten futures Past dead The dust of a yearbook friend Only salty memories of Sour young breath Gone at half past the hour Leaving only warm plastic chairs I stand on rolling green hills My sandaled shoes, squeaking with wet grass Looking down my passionate mind Contemplating what ifs Only what if But no, here she sleeps With a head pillow of earth worms With their strange accordion bodies Eating away the marks her past left Mistakes and occurrences of a childhood Left her mean with crumbled sprit Twisted dirty laundry Chipped trashy blue nail polish Electric That was all that was left of her After that night After than man And that was her wrapped up in that green bag Only What about her mother? To her the horrific stories of her first born Her cookie monster Her punky Brewster wanta be He left only pieces of her flesh Matching really To the patchy clips of her past She never was whole. I stand here, watering her grave With my sorrow How long ago she changed me Left me with some of her pieces Still years later Making sure my nail were freshly painted No chips
© 2008 Monday ParkerReviews
|
Stats
418 Views
3 Reviews Added on February 6, 2008 Last Updated on March 1, 2008 Author
|