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Walk The Dog
By A_Puppet_Show
From hand came beauty,
as a dog cover shit - with,
paper of romantic dreams,
and only there it seems;
He is not to be disturbed;
Wonderful spells crafted,
in a bastion of isolation,
call it poetry or prayer,
a call of same sensation;
Twilligt kiss the bully,
on the playground, sitting,
with the mark of guilt;
he is loved by darkness,
fooling no one, branded,
with a sarcastic smile.
Unauthorized Copying Is Prohibited.
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© 2006 Blinded_Tiger
Published on Thursday, June 1, 2006.
Filed under:
"Poetry"
Comments on "Walk The Dog"
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On Friday, June 2, 2006, Solace
(1065)
wrote:
*laughs* that first stanza is like throwing a spear and watching it quivering - its a poignant stab - and then you turn it on its head...immaculate and leaping...
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On Friday, June 2, 2006, Dancing_Monkey
(1228) wrote:
The poet/playground wording made me think of you. Dont know if that was the point. But as awhole, this poem to me seemed like another way to descripe many poet's I) know. and the will to do prayer through wording. *Shrugs*
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