Pocket full

Pocket full

A Poem by N_dot_AIMLESS

Pocket full of dust, object of my lust
Paint without the brush, broke without the crutch
Too little to clutch, too much to touch
It is never enough, but it's enough to bluff with

Pretty little pockets, full of  shiny brittle objects
The opposite of modest, the gaudiest who flaunt it
Godliness is constant, but this odyssey is taunted
With fraudulent wants, solve it with solevants in product
My jaw works like a claw to crush the law into sawdust
It's a potluck, BYOP, bring your own pocket
Mines got the cockpit of the rocket ship promise
Comet tip laundry, quite a quandary try to follow this
Pop culture insignia presented by preference, sometimes with reference
The size of the package denotes the decided measurement
All kinds of elements, some metaphorically benevolent
I snap the tops of pockets like they had poetic relevance
Every eloquent celibate sentiment written in felt tip
Will add a chemical smell, like a manufactured meltdown
From hell hounds on rounds, to swell clowns with frowns
I'm spell bound, compelled to sell sounds to hell now

Pretty little pockets, all shapes and colors
Dust in the wind, potentials little brother
To big to cover, to small to even wonder
this that and the other, love lust for lovers


© 2015 N_dot_AIMLESS

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Added on February 25, 2015
Last Updated on February 25, 2015



Suburbia, CO

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