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Unknown Intentions
Woke up with a phone call
You're back in California
What has seemed like an eternity of a dead shoulder
Just turned the other cheek
I'm sure the question remains,
If in my hand that you can't see
is holding a dozen roses or a switchblade knife
And my answer to that,
In every man's sane soul is the will...
the will to justify his wrongs
and to discredit his good deeds.
And just what is in this hand and heart of mine?
I have yet to know, Perhaps roses...
Roses with the sharpest thorns i could find.
Oi
Thanks for the writings mate,
I've actually been to the Irish once or twice and barely remember.
I like your stuff as well. I'm sitting in some cyber cafe in Des Moines Iowa at the moment or i'D DELVE INTO IT A BIT MORE.
Not even sure if I remember how to log into post poems. If and when I get back to Lovely California, I'll look up a bit more of your stuff.
Cheers mate
Have a pint on me
Kevyn