Black Poetry : A Baby's Doll House:

Mario William vitale

Well-Known Member
REGISTERED MEMBER
Jun 6, 2017
274
22
A Baby's Doll House:



there she was lying on the sofa,
in place of Carbon photo
love immeasurably hit the scales from my eyes
in the middle of the room...,

salt is better then most
as a seagull heads out on the coast
leave from vegetate the inner most swell
brought to my attention out of her living hell

rub two sheets together
no matter what the weather
voice from the ears of a baby
iron sharpened rolls through
blessed to see the sudden atmosphere

I'm a page honored from the kingdoms' duct
frown to the suction grasp
A Bay's Doll House,
battle through the storm

curse the very day you were actually born
lift high the pale Trojan horse,
living straight through the given means
in her room she lives deep

the gathering weak
smile stay clear & take a peak
attention...mast of branded question
look straight to the sea

from a caged barbaric but interesting sleeve




down are the question we have in common
whispers in the corridor from the vent of the mind
there she sits,
spring of a charm given by an honest lad

carry on with a song..,
prances as if an elephant on a swing
cooked from the spices of host
love is the essence of her existence

look that way then look again
flirting with a magic wand then puzzled again
share through its order pulsed in a shadow
remember me in thick times as these

having something to request,
a present up their sleeve
prance as a humble horse left underneath the stand
a beautiful doll though pleasant to the eyes

blond, brown & barely alive
a show through the cover, cobwebs & disorder
to humble yourself a chief place to appeal
lovely be for those next to me

a beacon of light,
to a most hurting word to explain
follow me swift barriers in need
over the Willow yet throughout the leaves

1..,2...3.. come sit next to me
life, for a roller coaster baby grabs a hold of
mother takes the coupons,
sit a share with me the years falling the the mark on the trees

sexy spent busy as a be
her pretty little smile
yet for her energy...
grab hold of a smoke screen theme

falling through the trees
limit to Satan't busy scheme
bruising always leaving
 

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