Tuesday, January 18, 2011

A Murder

Last letter on the left,
Typed in a time of silence
His thoughts cold to the page
"My life needs an evacuation plan"
Voices echo dimly
In the sunlit halls of a child's memory
Where building blocks
Abc'd their way into being more than a foundation
While the man sits with coffee
Cigarettes and lighter for companionship
Lights up and mouths quietly
"All my life I've wanted to go home"
But no one listens to the words
Of children and old men
Except for the birds
That circle above.


Pat Tillett said...

I guess those "birds" circle above us our entire lives, just waiting to have at us.

Realy nice Time! There are several lines in here that I'm envious of.

W.B. said...

I haven't heard from you in a while. You should definitely post more often. :D

Rek said...

damn, I am jealous...you construct marvels of words....

TS Hendrik said...

Pat, Thanks you sir. As always your input means a lot to me.

W.B., Thanks, I just invest so much time in my other blog that I don't usually get around to writing here.

Rek, Thanks, I'm jealous of lot of things you write too.

Toto said...

love your blog!

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