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Pink Bullets
I was just bony hands as cold as a winter pole
You held a warm stone out new flowing blood to hold Oh what a contrast you were To the brutes in the halls My timid young fingers held a decent animal. Over the ramparts you tossed The scent of your skin and some foreign flowers Tied to a brick Sweet as a song The years have been short but the days were long. Cool of a temperate breeze from dark skies to wet grass We fell in a field it seems now a thousand summers passed When our kite lines first crossed We tied them into knots And to finally fly apart We had to cut them off. Since then it's been a book you read in reverse So you understand less as the pages turn Or a movie so crass And awkardly cast That even I could be the star. I don't look back as much as a rule And all this way before murder was cool But your memory is here and I'd like it to stay Warm light on a winter day. Over the ramparts you tossed The scent of your skin and some foreign flowers Tied to a brick Sweet as a song The years have been short but the days go slowly by Two loose kites falling from the sky Drawn to the ground and an end to flight. |
This poem was very serene and projected a calmness to it,but the words were strong and i liked how you repeated the last stanza,very well written piece here, stay ^.1
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