Albot George

Ant It Being Wet - Poem by Albot George

Are you not filling the couch sorry coach never know weather it's A whore U?
Start again; not filling the bus with hunky young (men or boys!
Wood be nice to see, the new roots
Or is it; just the older sorry old ones that will be coming I mean going
You can tell I've not done it for such a long long long time
You'd have thought it was like riding; once you've done it, it's hard to forget,can't remember what I was saying, probably doesn't matter nobody really understands me
Oh yes, put me down sorry I didn't mean that; I meant my name, I would like to come

I see without my eyes
I hear without listening
And my shadows still can
Feel the ghost of time

Topic(s) of this poem: art

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Poem Submitted: Wednesday, April 25, 2018

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