Mark Heathcote

Gold Star - 26,737 Points (22/03/66 / Manchester)

It Just Nullifies Him On His Way… - Poem by Mark Heathcote

Discharged from his mother’s loins
The man who sleeps who is born
With sleet in his two opal eyes
He must give-up his childish toys.

Must keep smiling through the pain
Run his fingers through the oat fields
And feel the winds dewy breaths-
Kiss on his retiring lips, full of bane.

He must linger alone, until the calendar
Turns a page a day, until you stare
Run into his arms, glad that you’re home
Oh mother of the next man, lacklustre.

With a taste of lost ill begotten love
Burning on his lips, two tearful eyes
Waving him away… her son on his way
Son, soon you’ll be a man someday.

Son you’ll be a man someday
Her smiles, it just nullifies him on his way…
Her smiles, it just nullifies him on his way…
Her smiles, it just nullifies him on his way…

Topic(s) of this poem: poem


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Poem Submitted: Monday, November 30, 2015



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