Books Poem by david gerardino
Books
COLD and clammy drunken hobbits,
with flower sprites that trickle
from the clouds above, they pull
out their majic wand, and shot it
like a empty gun.
I cry out, i dont want to be alone,
i cry out, im frightend and need some
love, i cry out, and laugh at all
these small words, still these drunken
hobbits have some thing to say.
Saturday, September 17, 2011
Topic(s) of this poem: flower
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8/27/2026 10:35:05 AM # rel_20260826T082754Z_99b456e
