The Broken Gate
Torn paint dressed the fence that hung the broken gate
The broken gate witnessed the death-throe plants
The death-throe plants kept company with nicotine dregs
Nicotine dregs grew from hands above pitted concrete
Pitted concrete bore memories of lost revellers
Lost revellers were lost in a day’s pain and liquor
A day’s pain and liquor were birthed in a dirty tummy
A dirty tummy reminded of nocturnal, loving sperm
Nocturnal, loving sperm screamed from needful things
Needful things lived in the home with the broken gate.
poem by Wicked Mike
Added by Poetry Lover
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