On the market

AJ

Everything hurts

Then nothing at all

Transient angels

Tell me what to do

Promising no conditions

 

I know the numbers

Off by heart

Of all the dealers

Of all the blows

But angels seem like ghosts

 

When promises walk through walls

I call the numbers

And make the deal

With anyone

Who’ll pretend to be my god

  • Author: A.J (Pseudonym) (Offline Offline)
  • Published: February 11th, 2020 23:16
  • Category: Unclassified
  • Views: 26


To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.