Old Man Poem by david gerardino
Old Man
Blood drips like water in
this greasy tub, cultures break away
as you wash this fever off, time explodes
as you shut your old mans eyes, is this
for real, or a dream from your wicked mind.
Old Man, wake up.
Old Man, wake up.
Old Man, wake up,
for this is your baptism,
and the death of your old ways.
Friday, July 8, 2011
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4/25/2024 7:34:32 AM # 1.0.0.1119
