Going Out

ztie1

Going Out

He softens his stash with conditioner

In case his lips are kissed.

Chews mint gum for breath

In case his tongue is met.

Deodorizes, adds a scent with cologne,

Presses clothes,

And straightens the home to show no mess.

 

The music and the moon is hung

In the air around his flight.

But one thing he left a mess

In search of worthiness this night

And his desire to be kissed;

His sloppy, unorganized broken heart

Cause only one can groom what he missed.

 

 

*

Advertisements


Categories: Life, People, Poetry

Tags: , , ,

1 reply

  1. I was good till the end….made me sad.

    Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: