Dirty Street Poetry

by Curing the Comon Cliche   Nov 26, 2008


I don't believe that anyone
Can say something to make me know
Where it is I'm going
What I'm writing, or how it goes

These words that swirl in all our heads
Consume us, God knows they consume me
But every once in a blue moon
Words come along that set us free

I don't believe that anybody
Can tell me what this poem means
I think it's just on of those things
You find crumpled up on a dirty street

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  • 15 years ago

    by StandStill

    You know what it reminds me of? A condensed version of Last Thoughts on Woody Guthrie ((or however you spell it..)). i don't know. it doesn't have to mean anything for it to mean something..if that makes any sense at all.

    5/5

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