Free Poetry Contest
*The Game Room \
The rock is pulsing in my ears
And licks the shores with waves.
I''m trying to remember why I''m here
And what it is that saves my days.
I''m drawn into melodic thunder
And looking at the ceiling, see a lightning.
My real soul has gone somewhere under
And I''m replaced with somebody less frightening.
The hand that''s moving now on the screen
Seems so close and so very big.
The stone range is still closer than the strings.
To hide from stones, should I put on a wig?
If here was in powdered wig a judge,
Would he shake off the powder, let it smudge?
Or, maybe, even rock and eat a fudge?
© By alienrhymer On 5/21/2011 11:19:57 PM
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