these thoughts are why i have no friends
Sunday
now, he is gone.
Bodies surround the man.
Dead, before our eyes.
I used to deliver his paper,
I would take in his trash.
He would sing me old melodies.
Wearing a suit with a bow tie,
His wife made that decision.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Newer Post
Older Post
Home
View mobile version
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment