Flood Of Fools Poem by Cigar Aficionado

Flood Of Fools

Rating: 5.0


Commune here thinking what......
sore infested scabs
flowing
oozing more than pus
of blood once
red.
Drooping pockets filled with notes
knowing verdict doctor spoke
leaving trails of flies
to mozy
Wednesdays never moving after noon

Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Topic(s) of this poem: leaving
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