Michael Witkowski

Rookie (14 July 1973 / Berent)

We clash together


Inside the thrush lily grows
I am milliner
I bud in yoou
Inside is a whisper
Welters my cockscomb

I stand aloof in praise
Shed tears on your joy
Besmear your grave
Bessech you, shed
No sun rays upon me

As they scare me- no
Devilish disgust seems to
Me thinkable than your
Late revenge in your
Disparaged tomb- I

Will never curse your
Blackened eyes- will
Never stream, never roam
In your black walls
But i have pride

Submitted: Wednesday, March 09, 2005
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