The Dirty Man Poem by glorious alice

My hours shrink to good.
His words make my nerves
To lead a flow without blood.
A friend with a demon face-that
Means that I am no longer.
The penetrating words are still away to my ears-but
I somehow heard.
The abusing makes me
Stranger in strangers.
The streets never ease me to go out
From his stinky arrows.
I argue with silent mountains
How he could be like that.
No one is there to shield me
From the ugly telling.
I am worried that
Whether the night will bring the words
Back on my bedroom walls or not.
Will my windows hit the word in to hell?
When he pens
I feel wild snakes creeping
On my shoulders.
I kick off
The deliberate words of the dirty man
In to the crowded street to being stamped.
Ask me
Have you known him?
My smile will say you that
I am refico here.