I wrote
Poetry on your walls,
Now they echo in your halls;
You’re just another brick in my stalls.
Merry Marian,
Quite the contrarian,
Screams her shadow obsidian;
You’re just another blank oblivion.
Doggy dog
Howls into shadows—
Blew down those shady bellows—
You’re just another brick in my wall of fellows.
Sappy sours
Mash in the ground.
Happy men piss off the hound.
You’re just the shape of a burial mound.
© 2025 Tristan Robert Lange. All rights reserved.
Tittu
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Author:
Tristan Robert Lange (
Online) - Published: November 26th, 2025 09:09
- Comment from author about the poem: Comment from author about the poem: I’m now published in an anthology featuring authors from across the Poconos, PA. All proceeds benefit the Pocono Liars Club — a collective of authors and editors dedicated to supporting and mentoring local writers. Available in paperback and Kindle, please consider purchasing one and supporting a great cause. https://a.co/d/58uxM69
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 2
- Users favorite of this poem: sorenbarrett
Online)
Comments1
Love Pink Floyd and Black Floyd echoes so many memories. Nicely worded with clue after clue. I was looking for a mother reference. A fave my friend
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