Sunday, April 24, 2016

la poemes

blue and orange are colors you see
white and black are opposites of me

the grey is what i am today
and yesterday, before and then,
her and there and old big ben,

i see the clock has striked at noon
but i've got a secret, well not a secret you baboon
time's not moving, space is you know
got a question, free throw?

keep on running i'll catch up
mowgli, tarzan, a little chipped teacup
don't belong here a little "sup"
be our guest they say, whatever down isn't shut up
i've got a dog that'll make you be like oh "PUP"?

keep on writing lines, the more the better
the latter encourages me, no matter what the weather
i'll stay up all night if i have to adding lines to matter
i can't take it make it break it whatever
i don't understand a thing i really don't i'm just a brother
a sister an aunt a child and a visitor

this world is not my own
it's a borrowed space place sewn
stitched together almost seemlessly seemingly strewn
white as bone
cold as an empty abandoned home
where lovers used to live but they fought and one left and the other moved and none is shown
what to do where to go who to be what do i know?

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