Between The Bars Poem by jerome moore

Between The Bars



i see there battered builders
barred and strung out
and for what oh a little kicks
a cloudy room with rowdy souls
stuck in the cages hanging arms
from the bars.

and when I look into all that glass
I see shelves of colorful kaleidoscopic dreams
I see them poured over ice
that myopic ice
frigid souls gallivanting, sounding like wind in my ears.

Saturday, July 26, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: dreams
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