Lindsey Wolf Poems

Knee high, ripples and wades.
Brutality. Puncturing the dirt.
Where spring blossoms once would flirt.
...

A blind woman, a deaf man
coming together the best they can.
Sounds of a voice, movement of fingers,
lost of one while the other steadfast lingers.
...

Is the year worth the time?
I've yet to decide.
I suppose this is how it was designed,
we are all but etchings washed away by tide.
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The smell of her favorite perfume
swallowed up by yarn fibers
ghosts of the same smell loom
picking flowers that still haven't bloomed.
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There is a man dressed in black, disguising his face.
He often vacations in the misery of humans,
delivering his envelopes at night, decoyed in red lace.
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If only I had knew,
all that had gone wrong.
The battle being waged within you,
hidden behind strength for so long.
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The car halted within the crowd of fans
The soprano voices screaming. the rabid girls.
All come to see one God-like man
As he kisses goodbye to the girl with the dark curls.
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There is an uproar in my town
Parents all hide away their young.
Hiding from a creature emerging as the sun goes down.
80 pounds of fur, clipped Yoda ears making chewbacca sounds.
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With youth comes happiness, or so they say.
Yet happiness is absent for those
who have been pushing youth away.
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Just a couple miles from the city
there is a town.
Everything is blood-stained and filthy
nestled between white-fenced suburbs
...