Open Poetry #37 |
Into The Eyes Of Madness |
Paula Finn Member Ascendant
since 2000-06-17
Posts 5546missouri |
On the street hidden by his very appearance eyes slide over him afraid to make contact afraid to acknowledge his very existance. He holds a crushed can marveling at the light reflected in the creases and for a moment wonders about the hands that crushed it. But his thoughts like a losing slot machine never quite making the connection lemon...lemon...cherry. He tosses the can aside no longer remembering why he even held it to begin with lost now in the dirt being blown along the sidewalk. Thinking...thinking... wind blown tree limbs beckon him nearer... deeper...thinking...thinking... creeping into the dark...why? Branches scratch against glass and he looks closer caught by a face...his face... his eyes...Oh God...his eyes and he is lost into the eyes of madness. [This message has been edited by Paula Finn (05-12-2006 11:12 PM).] |
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© Copyright 2006 Paula Finn - All Rights Reserved | |||
S Arthur Grey Senior Member
since 2001-03-19
Posts 719woven by a poet's loom |
Enjoyed this, but, if I might suggest: Think about dropping the last line, or even the last two lines. |
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FNG Member
since 2006-02-07
Posts 477 |
But his thoughts like a losing slot machine never quite making the connection lemon...lemon...cherry. Love your poem, beautifully sad. like the line above most. enjoyed |
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