John Dowdall

Rookie - 131 Points (08/10/1973 / Dublin)

Spirit At Home - Poem by John Dowdall

When you are sick 'n' tired of the world
why don't you call me.
I'll let you crawl in here beside me.
Although, you left me many times,
that's just your nature.
You must wander to be free.

Y'see, I know when I look in your eyes
you are a sculptor,
reticent of worlds you can see.
Although, unknown by the newspaper hack
or by the whorehouse jakes.

I'll let you rest here with me
when you're as broken as
a sweet lady can be.

My love means nothing now,
it was just a daydream, because I
know now what you mean.
I'm just a tiny piece of all your creations,
I can't really offer you anything,
just thanks, for resting here with me.

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Topic(s) of this poem: spiritual

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Poem Submitted: Friday, December 9, 2011

Poem Edited: Saturday, May 3, 2014

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