05-08-2014, 02:18 AM
Edit 2
Mangled hair, worn leather boots,
ripped denim, with a
red bandanna under a
feathered fedora.
He sips coffee stationed
on a stool, speaking tales
of far away places,
where dreamers visit.
Alluring encounters entice
fire flies dancing in the heat,
illuminating a pond
filled with cattails.
Walking on gravel roads
in the summer sun,
sweat streams down
dripping off his chin.
He wanders with no aim,
as a train with no passengers
purposely patrolling endless
landscapes.
Overhearing the youth
from the table behind,
an indifferent ear
sits silently alone.
Black suit strapped to
a pale chest, glasses,
polished dress shoes,
a matching laptop.
He gazes upon his screen,
stocks quotes tell him
of a growing number,
his life's work.
Breathing deeply,
the suit strapped soul
sighs silently.
Original
Mangled hair, worn leather boots,
ripped denim jeans, with a
red bandanna under a
feathered fedora.
He sips coffee stationed
on a stool, speaking tales
of far away places.
Where dreamers visit.
Intriguing, his stories seem.
Fire flies dancing in the
summer heat, illuminating
a pond filled with cattail.
Walking on gravel roads
in the warm summer sun.
Sweat streams down
dripping off the chin.
Wandering with no aim.
A train with no passengers
purposely patrolling endless
landscapes.
Overhearing the youth
from the table behind.
Resides the antithesis
of the story teller.
Black suit strapped to
a pale chest, glasses,
polished dress shoes,
a matching laptop.
He stares upon his screen,
stocks tell him of a
growing number.
His life's work.
Breathing deep the
suit strapped soul
sighs silently.
Mangled hair, worn leather boots,
ripped denim, with a
red bandanna under a
feathered fedora.
He sips coffee stationed
on a stool, speaking tales
of far away places,
where dreamers visit.
Alluring encounters entice
fire flies dancing in the heat,
illuminating a pond
filled with cattails.
Walking on gravel roads
in the summer sun,
sweat streams down
dripping off his chin.
He wanders with no aim,
as a train with no passengers
purposely patrolling endless
landscapes.
Overhearing the youth
from the table behind,
an indifferent ear
sits silently alone.
Black suit strapped to
a pale chest, glasses,
polished dress shoes,
a matching laptop.
He gazes upon his screen,
stocks quotes tell him
of a growing number,
his life's work.
Breathing deeply,
the suit strapped soul
sighs silently.
Original
Mangled hair, worn leather boots,
ripped denim jeans, with a
red bandanna under a
feathered fedora.
He sips coffee stationed
on a stool, speaking tales
of far away places.
Where dreamers visit.
Intriguing, his stories seem.
Fire flies dancing in the
summer heat, illuminating
a pond filled with cattail.
Walking on gravel roads
in the warm summer sun.
Sweat streams down
dripping off the chin.
Wandering with no aim.
A train with no passengers
purposely patrolling endless
landscapes.
Overhearing the youth
from the table behind.
Resides the antithesis
of the story teller.
Black suit strapped to
a pale chest, glasses,
polished dress shoes,
a matching laptop.
He stares upon his screen,
stocks tell him of a
growing number.
His life's work.
Breathing deep the
suit strapped soul
sighs silently.
Only one thing is impossible for God: To find any sense in any copyright law on the planet.
--mark twain
Bunx
--mark twain
Bunx

