Reporter's Dead Beat (poem) by Walter LaVerne Jones on AuthorsDen

Reporter's Dead Beat
by Walter LaVerne Jones → (All Poetry by Walter LaVerne Jones)
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Corner market in aging Downtown Street Clip of heroin voices keep Knowing new missing you Trouble down at the darken edge Watch the separation of a pledge Traffic stopped another dead cop Alley filled with memories cardboard house on lonely streets Wisp of used to bes I wonder what became of me Touch a hand tired and old watch the world unfold Roses in the paper form fact not the norm Pretty little girl in a striped uniform saving life Once was the upper crust of time Works the streets looking for something Dreams die hard Turn my eyes the other way Watch the sun set as I move away Suburban takes me to my home Streets are left alone Not message or voice left to say Tasted and drank the filth but that was a different day Watch the walls grow tall wonder how I escaped it all Trust is like the willow in my yard hard nails but bends just so far Want is the need where is life where is the seed that lets new from bad grow How many will hold a registers heat pretty lady shooting up the street Pen and paper in my hand sketch a memory forgot to understand Curb huggers want to be you that was once me Pick up the remnants of time stuff back the piece in my mind Find the truth hidden as the train goes by find sometimes I laugh but mostly cry Shadows gobble me up I sit in my garden watch all kinds of pretty stuff Heart feels a shadow pain, God please bring warm rain Wash a way the memories of a yesterday let me find My warm place in my mind

Reviewed by Tinka Boukes

Reviewed on September 27, 2006

"Shadows gobble me up I sit in my garden watch all kinds of pretty stuff
Heart feels a shadow pain, God please bring warm rain
Wash a way the memories of a yesterday let me find
My warm place in my mind "

Very well expressed feeling!!

Love Tinka