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| >> Static Item >> Poetry >> Other >> ID #915054 |   |
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The Phoenix rose from the ashes of my burned out heart.
His spiced nest and purplish plumage gave a man hope, That after my beautiful disaster I won’t always be taken apart By the wet kisses, warm hugs or the words that you spoke. The easy way out is to blame you for all of my troubles Call you the author of all of my worries and lonely despairs As a man I plan to rise, standing tall out of all of this rubble Leaving my beautiful disaster for your next inspection and repair.
© Copyright 2004 MOO for President (UN: themilkman at Writing.Com).
All rights reserved.
MOO for President has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work. |
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