Poems are like homes
After a flood has struck;
Just a funeral - without a tear,
A display for sightseers,
A memory of an old time dear.
Poems are like rocks that rolled
Rumbling down a hill;
Nothing sacred to the ironic eye,
Hurting more than healing,
Showing a pain once alive.
Poems are like tears
Shed long ago in sadness
Painted on pages with life-like feelings
Bringing back those old growing pains,
At three a.m., an emotional drain.
DAYS YOU KNEW ME
- By Anthony Buccino
Copyright © 2010 by Anthony Buccino, all rights reserved.
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