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Jan 05, 2009
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On the Table
Ashes of smoke,
filled the crystal cup.
A little salt,
to curb the tastes.
You can read from,
a book of painless poetry.
You can read from,
a book how to write a story.
Jot down each letter,
in your little black noter.
A roll of paper towels,
can't come crashing down.
A dictionary won't,
stop each wave or each sound.
The ringing of a cell,
can't catch my ear,
if I'm engulfed in a vial,
of sweet liquid.
filled the crystal cup.
A little salt,
to curb the tastes.
You can read from,
a book of painless poetry.
You can read from,
a book how to write a story.
Jot down each letter,
in your little black noter.
A roll of paper towels,
can't come crashing down.
A dictionary won't,
stop each wave or each sound.
The ringing of a cell,
can't catch my ear,
if I'm engulfed in a vial,
of sweet liquid.
Comments
Quillsvein1
17 years 4 months ago
you