Posted by Raikus at pcp02547486pcs.micske01.fl.comcast.net on May 12, 2003 at 14:47:01:
In Reply to: Post Poetry Volume 2 posted by Kev Hoffman on May 12, 2003 at 14:29:26:
Oh yeah. I do.
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Old Bonny Street
My eyes grow weary as I drive down Old Bonny Street.
The rhythmic beat of the wipers lull my metabolism to slow.
The hard blankets of rain crash into my windshield
As my old Ford taxis down the road.
The wipers fight off the assaulting rain to no avail.
The rain never stops, but the wipers do tire.
Even though their constant rhythm seems steady, they do fatigue
Like my eyes, that have seen too much for this day.
Assaulted by the never ending blankets of fate,
And the terrible story of life.
My eyes are weary of this world.
My body silently agrees with them.
Both give in as my truck drifts to the curb.