Timothy Long Poems

Baseball
thunderous, pleasurable
hitting, exciting, running
america's favorite past time
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Anciet Greece
iron weapons
women have no rights
men are farmers
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big and red looking like ted, ugly scars with ugly on par, poppin like popcorn and hurt like hell, zipples and cream that works like a dream, the start is young but the end is old, but sweat and oil do come, rest in beds with ugly faces to repeat, shower with secrets to get rid of it, the sheets feel softer now smooth and silk, with blood and water, done with bullies and and ugly nerds to a jocky night who can lift and fight, everything became all right, tonight you win like google over bing, prom went well like snail in a shell, bells ring, doves fly with a classical goodbye. all and smile.
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For the merry wit of company so fret not in spirit we are high, living life unlived never was there a sadder case then this, what an unpleasant thought as to think no more of the old times can pass as we have it no more, a man without his mother, a boy with out his blanket, can he take it or can he thank it, all that was left was a sieze of the the mind, it saddened him beyond repair, no one to be able to talk to, no one besides maybe a few to care, the characters in life created for
amusement saddened him so, like an invisable passage through the eyes. No sequal can dull the pain as tentivness settles through, an old soul of red, but blue brought the body glander throught the world, no word can be worth saying that isnt already said, never have i felt such soul pearing fun of an aching heart, can it dwendlle in time or break in the tiny spaces in my mind, am i
Death in a cage, Cause i didnt want to be done with u i still dont i wanted to repeat the past as if ur my golden girl, im a fool i
admit, but for you i wouldve been a fool for the years to come, the scars in the stars stooped my wonderment leaving me a chilly bone dried sad little man whose tales of sorrows the world know not, i dont regret it as i still want you, let it be known in any place you go i had a hole in the heart never becoming whole. As the days fade and the night crows like life which is just a fickle thing
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