Nancy Oyula

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Hall Of Shame

He pulled over his jeep, and got out.
His pockets being so deep, loaded with cash.
He had put on a black tee, and denim jeans.
His style, every end of the week, when he goes out.

Goodnight World.

Goodnight world.
The sun has moved to the west,
The bird has gone to his nest,
The body has done its best,

I Lost My Soul

It was hanging on the hooks,
Like my old man’s grey coat,

Who buries his head in books.

The Morgue

Silence welcomes me as I make my entrance,

So much to see in an instance,

Six Plus One

He first saw her when she was in the seventh grade.
He was seventeen, she was fourteen,
A year older than the average kid in grade seven.
He looked at her young eyes, she looked at him,


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7/27/2021 4:54:53 AM #