I
run to the closet,
hoping
to find security.
I
push thru the crowd,
not
wanting to stand in line.
Looking
into the mirror,
I
see what is standing there.
Cold
icicles for a frosty spine.
A
blanketed expression,
covered
with just a stare.
Cheerless
eyes,
look
back into mine.
They
say something,
I
cannot perceive the line.
Why
why, why?
Random
impressions,
run
thru my mind.
An
impression,
forms
on your mind.
Transfusion
to confusion.
My
mind,
is
in a cloud.
When
the smoke does clear,
will
I understand this life?
For
what is,
this
life?
If
not to try to clear the smoke,
depression
from your mind.
The
poem's a joke,
it
does have few rhythms!
This is Jim Hauenstein,
And my brother's poem was used as a song in the late 1980's by the band:
Two Buck Howie With The Exact Change.
That's my story and I'm sticking to it!
Like what you read, or don't like what you see, leave a comment and I'll answer you in a Post.
Thanks for reading.
This is Jim Hauenstein,
And my brother's poem was used as a song in the late 1980's by the band:
Two Buck Howie With The Exact Change.
That's my story and I'm sticking to it!
Like what you read, or don't like what you see, leave a comment and I'll answer you in a Post.
Thanks for reading.
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