| Poem: Submit | Random | Best | Worst | Recent | Comments |
|
I have nothing left to steal. (Free verse) by lost in america first they kicked in the door
the tv was easy, only 13 inches
and the boombox, plus three videos.
there was nothing much -
i was not home.
a studio -
one room including small kitchen
and shared bath.
the second time
they got the mini fridge, two towels, all the CDs,
my clothes, alarm clock.
it was the window,
everything.
garden level.
Up the ladder:
Stars of the sky
Down the ladder:
A Life Short-lived
Votes: (green: user, blue: anonymous)
Arithmetic Mean: 3.8
Posted: March 1, 2003 10:30 AM PST; Last modified: March 7, 2003 9:19 AM PSTWeighted score: 4.8569565 Overall Rank: 10464 Comments:
[n/a]
Fear of Garbage @ 64.56.113.214
|
1-Mar-03/7:36 PM
|
Reply
kind of nice...a little sparse
Sucks dude- very informative poem though. The comfort of a skateboard can mend you.
That's good though. Still not tapping hidden ideas however, but damn fine work.
This never really engaged any interest, I am trying to understand the point of even writing it.
151 view(s)
|
||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
