The Eyes of A Poet
By Mizpoeme
Slightly off to the average eye Jimmy Hendrix, the answering eightball and glasses with no eyeballs I sit on a mattress with no sheets In a cold basement with no walls The air is thick with blue smoke The music is deafening as the jam The girl beside me is fucking stoned I think she said her name was Pam I haven't caught his eye He's watching me I can feel his stare This is so fucked up I wonder what I am doing here I sit back and look around What is it that I am seeking Is it the mystery of the unknown I can't hear my conscience speaking Eventually I realize everything has a meaning At the time I didn't know it But now I have put pen to paper I've captured a moment through the eyes of a poet MJMP 7:46am Written November 22nd, 2001 © on Nov 21 2001 09:46 PM PST, Mary Jane 0 • 9
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"Slightly off to the average eye..."