Climb the highest mountain, punch the face of god
Too cold to focus on anything but frozen thoughts
Reminders of smiles
And vitriolic styles
That allow one to bloom
Has erased it to doom.
No surprise,
She failed to be wise
And smothered her face
With not laughter but disgrace.
The wintry cold
Has its grip and its hold
Upon a necklace of thought,
The kind that cannot be bought.
I smiled for the day,
Saw death and we ran off to play.
November 30, 2006
Suge
*Sometimes when I rhyme, it just sounds so stupid to me.
And vitriolic styles
That allow one to bloom
Has erased it to doom.
No surprise,
She failed to be wise
And smothered her face
With not laughter but disgrace.
The wintry cold
Has its grip and its hold
Upon a necklace of thought,
The kind that cannot be bought.
I smiled for the day,
Saw death and we ran off to play.
November 30, 2006
Suge
*Sometimes when I rhyme, it just sounds so stupid to me.
Comment On This Poem --- Vote for this poem
Too cold to focus on anything but frozen thoughts
Too cold to focus on anything but frozen thoughts
