Tuesday, October 26, 2010

Live

He walk the streets with heavy feet and broken dreams. Woman with the smell of old men on their skin, staggering closer: "Come baby I'll show you a good time."
Pushing off the lust in his heart and denying them the money to feed their kids one more time.

Vomit in small isles, drink up poetry in Vodka clubs. Imagine days when live was pleasant, when the night did not attack him like a rabbi invested dog. He knew nothing about cocaine and music, he was free.

Now he is bound in death.

9 comments:

Charles Gramlich said...

Powerful stuff. I like this a lot.

etain_lavena said...

Thank you sooo much Charles:)

laughingwolf said...

chilling, my friend...

holiday blessings to you and yours!

etain_lavena said...

Thanks Wolf, same to you and your family.
HUGZ

laughingwolf said...

hugglees n slobbersnuffs! ;)

www.birdbrains.blogg.no said...

What a nice blog you have! :D

etain_lavena said...

Thank you kindly:)

laughingwolf said...

hope you post again, real soon!

etain_lavena said...

Life keeps one busy, and I constantly think I must post, maybe I should just post now:)

Thanks Wolf:)