A Poem by Coyote Poetry
Sometime little is better than nothing.
First drink, last drink.’ It doesn’t matter my friend.
Smoked filled taverns keep the saints and angels away.
Just us sinners and forgotten people waiting at the Purgatory Inn for something
to live for.
Pretty woman with many tattoos sit with me and request a poem.
Told me tell me the liar prayer. I need some false hope today.
I told her it will be my pleasure.
Let’s pretend we are lovers.
Founding paradise of two lonely people.
Let’s pretend we are in love.
I have pray for you to come.
Let’s pretend we have tomorrow.
I want to find peace in your eyes.
Please allow me to fall into the cold bed with you.
Light up dead candles of hope.
I want us to not play dead. Excepting too little.
I want you to show me wild passion and make my world explode.
Let’s lay together nude. Whisper twisted words of love.
Make promises we cannot keep.
Show me some sort of love.
Walk with me. Hold me like I’m your first love and last love.
Let’s watch the sea retreat back to deep water.
Let’s watch the sun rise.
Allow me to embrace you and
whisper words of love that cannot be.
Please my angel, my demon.
Let’s pretend we are in love.”
The tattoos beauty looked sad and asked me. “Can the dead rise?
Does dead in heart mean buried forever? Will you pretend to love
and need me? Better to know some kind of feeling my Poet friend than to
die with whiskey and alone.”
Old Poet smiled. Brought the beauty near. Kissed her lips and told her.
The liar’s prayer is true. We learn to accept less. It not the pure love of
the youth in life. Sometime accepting what we need.