Oh look!
Another bruise
A few tones of plums
A little bit of blues
When did i get this one?
I don’t even remember
Maybe i ran into something
On last weekend’s cruise
Who do i blame for this?
Who can i accuse?
I am only responsible
For these deformed tattoos
Or is it from yesterday?
When i was running blind
As food arrived on the door
And i stumbled on a heap of shoes
It’s so hard to track its origin
When i am a clumsy restless Explorer
Who walks like a lost psycho
Who’s drank a barrel of booze
I got tons of these
They are more like abstract art to me
Art is sweet pain, doesn’t hurt
Like others, this too will defuse..
Copyright © 2018 stoneronarollercoaster – All rights reserved
Stoner on a rollercoaster 
Sadly I can relate to this very much. Brilliant imagery. I tripped over those shoes with you x
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ahahah..on wordpress we all are so much alike in so many ways..it feels like loony gang of that movie “one flew over cuckoos nest” at times..lovely sweet crazy people 🙂💕
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Writing is also sweet pain and luckily you’re blessed with both 🙂
I wish I was good at art (sigh)
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you never know what you are good at until unless you try. so I would say give it a try. maybe you are good at arts too.
and writing itself in an art..🙂
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Oh yes it is 🙂
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😊 waiting for your artwork then
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😀 😀
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im serious!
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Will try 😛
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Will wait 🙂
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We all can relate to such bruises which we don’t know the origin of.Well penned.
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ahah thanks hun. 🙂
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Most welcome.
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🙂
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Bruises, I get so many. I rarely know where they come from. You have such an amazing talent for writing!
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Ahahha thank you. So do you and everyone else here.
I was feeling napowrimo poems are not going that good. Thanks for appriciating 🤗😊
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May I be silly for a moment?
A bruise is a badge
From contacting the wall
A virus a gift
From contracting a small
Simple being
That you kindly give
A place in your body
In which warmly to live
A cut is the gateway
The virus walks through
A cough is the message
The virus sends you
A fracture a medal
You get from a fall
When you drop from the ladder
Whilst climbing a wall
A cancer’s a ghost
That you’ll ghoulishly get
If you foolishly choose
To smoke one cigarette
A cold is just something
You get in your head
The flu, somewhat worse
It restricts you to bed
The plague is a bugger
It affects the whole street
Leprosy something
You don’t want to meet
But everything starts to go wrong
When you’re old
You cry when you’re happy
You sweat when you’re cold
You don’t know where you’re going
Can’t recall where you’ve been
Just sitting around
Then dementia kicks in …..
Sometimes I fall over
Sometimes I bruise
Sometimes germs find a place
In my body to use
Sometimes I get a cough
Sometimes I lay in bed
I’m old and I’m beaten
But still I’m not dead
I’ll be here tomorrow
Or maybe I won’t
I still have my marbles
Or maybe I don’t.
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Hahaha your poetry is just so amazing!
Effortless! Flows like river.
Thanks alot for sharing 😊
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Bruise, but still soothing.. Have a nice day 🙂
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Thank you so much.
You too 🙂
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Do you have any idea how good that was?
It was great. I felt like I was skipping through the House with you!
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Ahahah thank you for the complement its morning here.
Thanks alot for pleasant begining of the day. 😊
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Ha ha yes we all have something a little odd about us 😂
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ahaha thats why we gathered here for some kind of peace 😆
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Yes peace from those terrible sane people 😂
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yea…the pollutants of mother earth..🤣
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😂😂😂
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😆
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very good poem! I liked it! xxx
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