The Violent Space (Or When Your Sister Sleeps Around For Money) Comments

And what do I do. I boil my tears in a twisted spoon And dance like an angel on the point of a needle. helpless, i grab the air............ such a great poem. i like this poet.. tony

.....so sad, many feel they must do this to survive ★ an unforgettable poem

OUTSTANDING POEM....SPEECHLESS.............100++++ And what do I do. I boil my tears in a twisted spoon And dance like an angel on the point of a needle. I sit counting syllables like Midas gold. I am not bold. I cannot yet take hold of the demon And lift his weight from you black belly, So I grab the air and sing my song. (But the air cannot stand my singing long.)

......wonderful.....