A Poem by Coyote Poetry
A new poem. I hope you like.
In the lair of the fallen angels. Old men talk of fleeing love, old war and missed faces.
I joined the club at a young age. Bad decisions, dead brothers and greed in love made me turn old and cold. I was used-up and knew old man wisdom too soon.
We had the women with us too. Women can get dirty and wasteful too. The entrance of the Purgatory is wide open and anyone is free to enter.
The music of Elvis, Johnnie Cash, Willie and Hank is being sang for us. Here in Austin, Texas. A lot of fallen angel are waiting for nothing.
Jenny from Belton, Texas. She told me. “Cold hearten are we. Once you told me I was pretty and sweet but you won’t go home with me.” I…
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