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Array ( [sid] => 139110 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => he hurt [time] => 2007-12-11 00:33:03 [hometext] => [bodytext] => he hurt

like a broke-**** dog,
only the hurt
was inside.

it wasn’t
anything you could see,

except
maybe in his eyes.

they were the kind of eyes
that made you feel sad.

you wanted to look away,
and you didn’t know why,

but,
you knew you had to.

he wore a hat
and a black coat
and a tie that was
too short for him.

he sat there,
in the bus station,
looking odd, and disheveled
and elegant
and queer.

he needed Morocco…

he needed Tangier.

he needed jazz and a
gold watch bought on a
street corner from a guy named
Jimmy
who had a club foot,
a glass eye
and a gold ring.

what he didn’t need
was a bus ticket
and a cold-*** chair
and these memories
that made him hurt
like a broke-**** dog.

[comments] => 0 [counter] => 175 [topic] => 43 [informant] => JohnYamrus [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => oops )

he hurt

Contributed by JohnYamrus on Tuesday, 11th December 2007 @ 12:33:03 AM in AEST
Topic: oops

he hurt

like a broke-**** dog,
only the hurt
was inside.

it wasn’t
anything you could see,

except
maybe in his eyes.

they were the kind of eyes
that made you feel sad.

you wanted to look away,
and you didn’t know why,

but,
you knew you had to.

he wore a hat
and a black coat
and a tie that was
too short for him.

he sat there,
in the bus station,
looking odd, and disheveled
and elegant
and queer.

he needed Morocco…

he needed Tangier.

he needed jazz and a
gold watch bought on a
street corner from a guy named
Jimmy
who had a club foot,
a glass eye
and a gold ring.

what he didn’t need
was a bus ticket
and a cold-*** chair
and these memories
that made him hurt
like a broke-**** dog.

Copyright Â© JohnYamrus ... [ 2007-12-11 00:33:03]
(Date/Time posted on site)

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