A posting of every poem that I've ever written ...in continuation, as I write new things and express myself.
Experience everything that lies behind my eyes.
I am not very active on this site and only have used it to draw out my talents and express...
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The fat man in his dark suit, hair slick back smoking his huge cigar, outside a building I've never looked closely at, where my bus passes. -I find comfort in him.
Rusted to green pennies tossed about, here, there. Pennies smothered into the dirt by shoe. Pennies even the poorest, rages and all wouldn't care to pick up, along he streets bleached with a thousand falls. Leaves that will never go away. -I find comfort in them.
... and then there are the old, tired buildings. Outside those museums, statues of faces I don't know. Golden symbols and vines and leaves in design. -I find comfort in them.
Trash thrown, and blown around on the side walks of which I've walked for so long, The sound it makes when I kick it further ahead of me, Off into the short distance, Which I'll reach soon. - I find comfort in it.
The broken glass you try hard not to step on, As if it will go through your shoe and cut you. Never telling specifically what it was before it broke, But assuming a bottle. - I find comfort in it.
I find comfort in all the things that I am used to. Of course they are all I know. And when I heard gun shots at night, I was never scared.... But now I find, that I can't find comfort in it any longer.
