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Salon of Poetry for Critique - Three
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Poem Number 327
~u must be you~
a whore of words
penetrating silence
like your silent eyes
filled only with space
that invades my place
in time you'll see
that my eardrum beats
to the ticking moon
in dawn delayed
unafraid of your tresspassing ways
and hazed filled days
so step a dance that way
where children play
those hopscotch games
there's only you to blame
for being so damn lame
you must be you
he he he he he he he he heh eh
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