It is raining today
and for some reason
the winds keep on
sweeping my thoughts
to a late uncle of mine.
I was young
when he lived
but I will never forget
the spirit he had
It was beautifully broken.
His soul was one any would
love to know but
none would love to be.
The things he cared for
you could count on two fingers.
He lived by the bottle
and died by the bottle
he probably died beside it too.
He lit his next smoke by the
dying ashes of his previous.
But as sinful as this man was
I am still fascinated by him
maybe because of the magical
stories he told me
or the guilt I feel for never asking
what broke him so.
And the saddest truth is
as shit as this man was
he is the most free a person
I have ever known.
YOU ARE READING
Beautiful Madness
שיריםThe Lonely Poet Love Letters to the wolf princess in blue Him and Her I write to pour out my feelings and my imaginations some of my poems may not make sense, but what is "sense" really? This is beautiful madness. Enjoy. Or Not. Victor Forna
