An ode to the broken man
All poems copyright: ravivchhabra.com Managing Editor: www.fnbworld.com H e lies under the shadow of the reading spotlight hearing the glisten in the eeriness of his soul Don't mock the broken man He smells of going fishing with friends and his fine lass walking back on the pale grass The memories keep playing truant not the dreams he sees of them then and now... Don't mock the broken man He gets visions of her bosom and his hands never wanting to let go as she first helped him slide them inside her black denim shirt Romancing to make him feel her under the skirt skin Don’t mock the broken man Rich forever he shall be. Memories for breakfast and same for dessert. They in unison stroked and smoked weed and satisfied their greed Best indeed Don't mock the broken man Has dawn knocked? He hears the crows and parrots...
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