Short poetry tells a story
Of a child whose name is Corey
Soon to be just a memory
FATHERLY WORDS
You never give advice
Just always say
“Get used to it.”
If this is what the rest of
My life
Will be
Then I may as well end it right now
I SIT WAITING
Vultures circling above
Further away flies the dove
Descending death blacks out all love
I sit waiting – had enough
DEPRESSED
Depressed depressed depressed depressed
On and on, you know the rest
Just needed to get that off my chest
Hope that you are all impressed
Tell Corey what you thought of these poems in the guestbook.
