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script
by Mary Frances Spencerdialog limited
death permeating
fists heavy on weapons
grasping for dollars
sort of a western
the story never ends
but rolls around bitter
lips pinched angry
unable to tear open
necessary windows
we plod through
preconceived
conditions
and gasp the stale
page after page
waiting until its too late
now burns
eyes dont see
read between these lines
write something fresh
tomorrow
06/12/2008 Author's Note: Not sure if it's "done" yet... MFS
Posted on 06/13/2008
Copyright © 2025 Mary Frances Spencer
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by George Hoerner on 06/13/08 at 04:03 PM We all need to write something fresh tomorrow. And yet, tis the most difficult thing for we are so stuck in our ways. Nice write lady. |
| Posted by Gregory O'Neill on 06/15/08 at 09:01 PM Every poem is a motion, it may continue its movement, or remain still waiting for some wonderful disturbance! |
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