As A Beggar - Sometimes The Poet In Me Comes To The Fore, a photo by firoze shakir photographerno1 on Flickr.
blood sweat
tears and gore
unsaleable words
i prostitute i whore
bashing my bleeding
head at her closed
doors .. she wants less
i want more as poet
within the fucked soul
of a beggar i underscore
i am as deformed as he is
sitting by his side on the floor
pain buzzing like bee idling
on the core .. i try to get sleep
i can hardly snore .. my destiny
caught up with her on some
distant illusory dreamy shores
a boat caught in a whirlpool
she mockingly holds the oars
