PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

In the darkened smoky hall

it begins, things come back.

A sip of beer, a waft from a

Camel cigarette, the tick

-ticking from the earth

when he's close by.

No tribute either way

just "Daddy" and "KarenAnn".

Innocence is lost by degrees.



Across land and sea,

dust thick in the heavy air

and fruit leather with stones.

This place is mine with its

tinkling bells and the

blue to fend off the dark.

Who said that worked? It was Balli

who tried to save the little ones,

but innocence is lost in time.



The sun is dying over

the edge of the world

and E-X-I-T casts alizarin

ripples on the ribbon of

wax as long as loneliness.

Down the corridors echoes

ricochet between the

endless walls of time while

innocence is lost in stages.



The gift is the spark that

comes not from the mortal.

It is the trying again; the

mindfulness; the rule that is

gold; the knowing how to love

and saving the best 'til last,

all  touches from God.

IT is here along with the

innocence that was never lost.