Run on with your life
Taste is bitter and difficult...



Lonesome

Lonesome I'm today
And it's very cold outside
Golden spurs of darkish ray
On the sky now take a ride
Clouds drifting one by one
Passing through the sky
On - till everyone is gone
In the clear blue high

Dreams we are forgetting
From the summer past
Cold and numb are letting
Inside their dusky cast
Frosty times are riding through
With their pink and pale
Giving views quite new
On their lonesome rail

What will become clear?
With this outlying cast
When roads reach the drear
Snow eyes mirrored glassed
Run on with your life
Taste is bitter and difficult
The frosty bitter jackknife
Now stretching out its cult




Poetry by Peter S. Quinn
Read 1129 times
Written on 2006-11-02 at 22:16

Tags Lonesome  Taste 

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