Art, Poetry
Comments 3

I’m Stoned (so stoned)

If only I had a tortilla

That wonderful flap of skin

A pure pancake of flour pilfered…

Lite like a tissue,

Yet thick as a hide.

Not quite leather

You might say

And yet not quite shy.

So far I have searched…

So long and hard have I tried…

And so I strum this guitar

And hum a quiet tune.

Not quite sure what to sing,

And yet one lyric will do:

“Only to be with you…”

And I still haven’t found what I’m looking for.

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This entry was posted in: Art, Poetry
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My name is Michael and during my free time I avoid having a day job. Strangely enough, this gives me the freedom to run this blog. I write just about anything that can be considered art. I also occasionally post articles that may or may not be relevant to the theme of this site. You’ve been warned.

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