Crappy Poem III

Today’s weather is once again overcast with Melancholy with a front of nostalgia coming in from the East.

i dreamt of us together
Carrying baskets of martyred words
upon our backs.
Our murdered thoughts,
Delicate with meaning.

And we trod lightly on splintered pasts.
Nursing each other with the spilt blood
Of those slaughtered tender moments
that sacrificed themselves for this

We tossed memories to the wayside
Like loose clothing
And made ourselves vagabonds
On that clichéd, beaten path

Tripping over body parts of Ginsberg
Of Camus. Of Hemingway.
And all those Shakespearian Fools

And we slept under shade trees
And drank from muddied rivers
And when i awoke
You were somewhere else, asleep