Poems from RisingPhoenix
You’re right,
I don’t want to say anything.
At least not to you.
Or anyone else for that matter.
Much safer to scribble in a journal.
Blue...
It's like an itch buried in my arteries
like moths beating against my rib
bones
Here, let me pull them apart for you
say the word, I'll...
The circled wagons of
Chain stores
Protecting us from
The wild fires and haunting war cries
Of Independent Business Owners.
The waves ebb
against
the white sand of the silent beach of the slowly crumbling island
that is
the keeper of the black cloud, of the blue...
Hold on to what makes your dreams
your dreams
indeed even as the fatigued sun is laid to rest
his grasping fingers slowly slipping past...