Alone With a Twitch and Crowd

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
Fresh morning air through my fingers, I suppose.

Submitted: September 22, 2009

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Submitted: September 22, 2009

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Theres a fly wiping its hands in the shade /

Next to the purple plant that's fading to grey /

Alone with a song and Macbeth /

While the sun turns me red /

I had plans for this day but /

I've come undone with wonders hunch in my back /

Just wait it out, a face will find you

Wait it out and you will find you

Face down in a heap of regrets.

The front yard trees on its tippy toes spyin' /

Joinin' the neighbor on the ladder /

Alone with the cotton and cloud /

While my lone turns me blue /

I made promises late last night but /

those expired because I might die and /

I don't want to die in public /

Just wait it out, a death will find you /

Wait it out and you will find you /

Spilling tears at a second grade spring sing.


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