Tuesday 26 March 2013

My Poetry: Still Here

Still Here


You stare back
from a cheap
photo frame.
Tom Waits plays
old blue tunes,
moonlight hues
fade fast from
my cold room.
The fifteenth
shot of rum
warms my throat
your image swirls
thoughts flow
out-loud
to your ghost,
and while your
truth, smile and art
remain
you'll alway be here...

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