Walter Beck

one to the head by ben john smith

“One to the Head” by Ben John Smith

Spiritual Homeless Blues

The coffee mugs sit empty,
The dates rapidly fading;
Empty porcelain accusing me.

Names flash on the screen,
The Newest and Proudest,
And I don’t recognize them,
Not anymore.

The old leather colors
Hang lifeless,
Their silver buckles
Lazily gleaming under the 40 watt bulbs,
Half-closed, glazed over eyes.

My phone calls went unreturned,
My jokes went untold,
My songs went unsung,

And my poems went unread.

More about Ben John Smith


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