Of Concrete City By: Samuel Andrew Romo I used to always have a pen and paper Whenever I went anywhere There was always fantasy New faces and places That should be of great inspiration, A dry a-ray of sights to gain new experience But a last- to fast I grow weary of this dream Of a thousand dreams I seen before waking Before sleeping Before I drink a morning drink of water, of soda -Of a morning that already passed by as it order to I rise to clean my feet with the bright bleak sun Past its peak Then back again T0o my den To clean my room before I’m allowed to open my eyes For the day has grown old and grey A most discolored part of my age. There’s a new day about to announces itself In less than six hours According to the clock I’d choose to lose. As I never went by it schedule nor has it ever went by mine I broke clock face, it tiny arm and skinny leg But a joke I didn’t know too well left it smiling, As it was please to leave me seldom weeping sleeping Alone in my room Under a blue defeated moon And cold dark yawn that hollows Screams another night that it and I survived (And asked each other if we even wanted to) There’s only concrete I see Only concrete between you and me The Grey and boring city Life – moving beyond all lights Makes Old Grey A most discolored part of my age The only gold the only hope is the Moon I call Friend The lust and shine it Glows upon my face Leaves us to wait
Posted on: Wed, 03 Jul 2013 06:51:55 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015