|
Menu
|
|
|
Social
|
|
|
|
Pocket Watches
Contributed by
Townes
on
Tuesday, 16th June 2009 @ 03:15:36 PM in AEST
Topic:
Nostalgic
|
Under soil, roots and dampness
Smiles, laughter, sadness
Only so many last calls in one's life
He seemed to think it was forever.
The jukebox swallows quarters
Fed from hands once warm
Now long since cold
Top hats, pocket watches and pin-striped coats
Dirt, weeds and seeds beneath loitering cigarette smoke.
Devoured by forces remaining unknown
Don't swallow my soul unless you swallow my bones
Everything I know
Eat my rain, my veins and the bane of my existence
Pictures burn
The world turns
It turns and it turns.
Copyright ©
Townes
... [
2009-06-16 15:15:36] (Date/Time posted on
site)
Advertisments:
|
|
|
|
|
Sorry, comments are no longer allowed for anonymous, please register for a free membership to access this feature and more
|
|
All comments are owned by the poster. Your Poetry
Dot Com is not responsible for the content of any
comment. That said, if you find an offensive comment, please
contact via the FeedBack Form with details, including poem title
etc.
|
|
|
|