I was drunk in Athens, but in my stupor I wrote this poem.
Stenciled hair
Polished face
Emerald lips
You’re just a dream
Specialty in what I do
Have this look
You know the cues
You’re still a dream
Dad hit you just right
Mom said, do it in spite
You’re just a dream
You know just where
Where I stand
By your side till it
Ends
Just a dream
So here I sit
In this chair
Wondering,
About you dear,
But now I know
That it seems,
You are just a dream
Always a dream
2 comments:
love that poem.
the imagery of emerald lips is fascinating.
see you this week!
Thanks for the compliment Kelly. I was wasted in Athens when I wrote that on sticky notes. :)
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