From the walls of stalls spread across the land,
poets mark the thoughts of youth before they really understand,
as dress and place come and take every pride left,
a phone number says it all in the next stall,
graphic dreams erase.
Wisdom wise leaves young eyes,
as the body speaks,
a thrill for a while,
firm in truth,
best left in a wedding bed,
reach for the wine and vermouth,
old and set never gets let,
to any reflection made yet,
for in the tale white as the pale,
best of the land was death.
When the wind comes down,
from the mountain high,
every drop of me,
screams to see,
the youth passing by.
Call the soul,
do not let it go,
warm the tears of the eyes,
every drop never will stop,
youth takes it as it dies.
Body warm keeps the storm at bay,
ever broken knot can stop,
only true love gets in the way,
hard the truth,
as one spirals down to the glow of younger days.
Quest is filled in the thrill,
watched as life runs away,
skin fills the glow,
watched passion hot flow and grow,
another peace of me escapes,
the fate,
found her too late,
just too late.
Salt leaves,
the mind grieves,
mirror breaks,
as the wild side takes its leave,
no place to run,
wait on the setting sun,
freedom deceives.
Every word still has not been heard,
write on to be,
all things seen and not seen,
reality screams at ideals,
false but real to broken shrouds cast,
as passion burns never more
last vision is only fingers of the flame.
Gravity sees a piece of all the needs of a man,
clever they dance reaching the chance of romancing of the land,
never a place to the single release of body so grand.
Solomon had his fill,
took the will,
an spread and laid many in the sand.
Clip of life is the edge of the knife,
dull but on the pledge,
reality never sees,
we are the wind,
voice of the body giving in,
to the wilder side called life.
Touched her soul,
where does the love go,
see it in the stream of conscious,
laying like a child,
cold and old on the scared ground.
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Well written Walter!!
"Shit... house walls can tell a million stories....lol!!
I was expecting something more stinky....hehehehe...not so serious!!
Love Tinka
This holds quite the reflection on life as we've passed through it.
Stunning work.
Lisa