DAVID GERARDINO

Rookie (9/19/1963)

Nails That Cut, The Chalk Bourd Of The Soul - Poem by DAVID GERARDINO

SPIDER eyes,
howled voices,
nails that cut,
into the chalk
bourd of the
soul.
BONES that crack,
loves thats cold,
and nails that cut,
into the chalk
bourd of the soul.
CANDLES blown out,
dark fills in, man
takes one last sip,
before he goes to
bed.
STILL, nails that cut
into the chalk bourd
of the soul.

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Poem Submitted: Thursday, March 30, 2006



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