Poems from LopezGabriel115

Favorite poets: Charles Bukowski Allen Ginsberg T.S. Eliot
we are the children born of machinery. conrete goliaths, strobe street lights dimly lighting a path never walked down dark, vacant streets...
i was 17 the last i spoke with my father. he came home that tuesday night smelling toxic, with the world giving away beneath his feet....
meeting him as a kid, cold and indifferent, but mostly confused and scared, i took him under my wing: isaac.   dull dead eyes, gray skin...
the road of failure is painted in the color of hope and leads to the jagged cliff where my dreams jumped.   the road back home is brightly...
there is a girl with gaps between her teeth, and with hair loose and uncontrolled that wraps around your fingers like vines around a...