PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Looking for bones in the unnamed graveyard for creatures

Once chiselled into sturdy snouts with interesting features

Those without snouts are sometimes with soft underflesh bone

Silent half-mad ascetic with his tottering stick shuffles all alone

Perchance stumbles upon the severed wings of a chirpy happy bird

Which tried to flap its wings shot by the wanton foolish man's gun

Does the car driver remember that he his car killed a stray cat

No. he never thought it so important none scolded him for that

The silent half-mad ascetic pokes his wavy stick made from a tree

Looking for his own skeleton the times when he had felt really free