Always

Originally posted on TheFeatheredSleep:
Sorrow You come from the juxtapose of joy As I ate words of love I had been starving for Felt your surround like a glory My body opening for…

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We had the month of May, once.

We had the month of May, once   Pretty gal from Italy told him by the Monterey Bay, the pipe dream poet, he isn’t poetry, he isn’t love, he is cursed, cursed to… Continue reading →

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“We are born to live and we are born to live”

We are born to die and we are born to live   Dear father drank his one pint of rum with some coke nightly and he sat alone with his thoughts. I learn… Continue reading →

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