Published on August 23, 2005 By Death_By_Beebles In Poetry
Every morning, 7:15
I trundle to room 14
knock knock knock
I meet them

head to breakfast
smells of love and old sneakers
eggs and donuts

It's like they shake happiness
from every tree they pass
like leaves falling
collected, saved
no matter what color
red blue green

It's obvious he would
give up his eyes, his heart
for her,
and it's obvious
she has a Russ shaped hole
in her heart
that only he can fill.

Comments
on Aug 23, 2005
Damn Al...this college stuff has got you writing different, yet still good poetry.

smells of love and old sneakers


Now when you say smells of love....

Great poem, Al

~Zoo
on Aug 23, 2005
Not that kind of love, you crazy kid!

Thanks Shaun.
on Aug 24, 2005
Damn Al...this college stuff has got you writing different, yet still good poetry


I agree with Shaun. It's still awesome!!!

~carebear~
on Aug 24, 2005
Thanks Ash.