|
 Menu
|
|
|
|
|
Social
|
|
|
|
|
Ghetto Scribe
Contributed by
xHeathenx
on
Monday, 24th October 2011 @ 05:19:02 PM in AEST
Topic:
Lifepoems
|
My First Poem to be posted in several months! I'm not dead I promise! I've just lost all creative writing behavior sadly. Lines with the asterisk will be lines I added in the last few minutes or so.
Young Ghetto Scribe
Leaving the Mark of his Tribe
Whilst Defacing an Urban Carriage
Belonging to the Man
Strokes of a Cylindrical Can
Speak Freely What
Public Speech Cannot
May the Oppression
Of the Police Soon Rot
Along With Their Morality*
Broken Wings of an Angel
Lie Shattered in the Road
Binding Her to this World
Of False Joy and Sorrow*
Always Apart From Her Throne*
Copyright ©
xHeathenx
... [
2011-10-24 17:19:02]
(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.
|
|
|
Re: Ghetto Scribe
(User Rating: 1 )
by emystar on
Monday, 24th October 2011 @ 07:02:00 PM AEST
(User
Info | Send
a Message)
|
Well it's great to see you back.
Great writing so get the juices flowing thru your pen.
Blessings,
emy |
|
|
Re: Ghetto Scribe
(User Rating: 1 )
by deusdeira on
Tuesday, 25th October 2011 @ 02:29:25 AM AEST
(User
Info | Send
a Message)
|
| Ahhh yes... subtle and beautiful metaphors hinting at a deeper meaning. Missed you :p welcome back! |
|
|
Re: Ghetto Scribe
(User Rating: 1 )
by Banjosandwitch on
Tuesday, 25th October 2011 @ 05:06:51 AM AEST
(User
Info | Send
a Message)
|
| i like your poem your smool |
|
|
Re: Ghetto Scribe
(User Rating: 1 )
by Jigget on
Wednesday, 24th April 2013 @ 03:58:38 AM AEST
(User
Info | Send
a Message)
|
it's a young man. he's painting on a police car, graffiti, the true art. it spills onto the road, like silver blood. with his painting evoking thought-provoking-not-to-be-spoken imagery that would break a dead heart.
he knows not his talent has ripped that angel, ragged and wind-whipped wreck of Wing-ed Wrong, from all it knew.
we walk on a dead angel. |
|
|
|
· 
Poetry
Community
Members
Areas
Reference
Search
Top
Others
