Stoned to death
death in milestones.
No answers
nothing,
no pleasure of sin
or craving.
Idle circus,
roving eye blind.
Heavy kisses full of
dust and spit.
Dying to meet
me and I.
Turn tuberculosis
as you see me
naked and scarred.
Hold your mothers spirit
and run,
run on fear...
@Steven Francis poems 1997
About Me
- Steven Francis
- I started writing in school and discovered it was the only thing that could hold my interest (apart from sex). I knew from the lump inside me that some creative channel had to be my direction. And be good or bad it is some kind of legacy.
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