Places
I woke up to an unmade bed, with checkered walls and a velvet rug
In the eye of the ghost with the eagle heart instead.
The rat patrol was on my tail, but I knew what I could do
Now listen to the rats rush in
Magnolia.
Schoolly D in a velvet sun, the dead horse runs away.
His voice sounded like a Roman holiday
Fern wood seeds and motor oil, I have no time to sit and toil
Today.
If you knew the places I've been, you'd surely lose your head
Don't wonder if the crows would eat your kin
Magnolia
Magnolia
👁 6💬 0
Something wrong with this poem?
Replies are closed for this poem.
Your Poem's Voice
See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.
Comments (0)
No comments yet. Be the first to share your thoughts.
Log in to leave a comment.