XIV #2 – Poor Fellow

Heavy breathin’, walking on a stiff leg
O’er his frigid palm, a stem of rose
Rehearsing some lines with edgy mouth pegged
Trying to calm down by fixing his clothes
Excited and cavalier, he fell down
Nicking his shoe, soiling his yellow shirt
Scratched his knee on the asphalt, bruised his crown
“Err didn’t I, why t’is tough luck?” he blurt
“Everyday I readied, why’d heavens frown?”
Laid back on a bench, he mumbled his piece
A long, detailed speech ’bout his life in town
In the sea and the girl whom he’s with ease
“Zooty ain’t gonna work I guess” he said
And he stood up and continued to tread

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s