craig n.

catefrances Posts: 29,003

April 2006 edited April 2006 in Poetry, Prose, Music & Art

he is a vine
all twisted and frayed
if we spoke with the truth
we'd admit
we like him that way

singing his songs
and banging away
keeps to himself
don't come near
don't you stay

he speaks through his songs
strangling guitar
scarring his lungs
screaming through time

he is a vine
all twisted and frayed
my hand is raised
i'll admit
i like him that way.

hear my name
take a good look
this could be the day
hold my hand
lie beside me
i just need to say