Sad Poems : Alcoholic Poet: Reflections Sad Poetry.

Alcoholic Poet. Poetry Equals Distance Over Time.

Distance Over Time
Tuesday 1/30/2007 11:59:00 PM

I pulled up a toadstool next to little Alice and asked her how small she felt. She said she had pink dreams after rendezvous with the white pill. That's when everything else getts big. And that she slept bluely because of the green ones. That's when everything turns small.

And then she said.

And then she said.

I have the best dreams ever when I take them all.

3 comments:
De.vile said...

Alice-that lives in a world that reverts from being big to small and sometimes back again- is a dangerous liason.

alcholic poet said...

true enough.

but a more interesting one.

don't you agree?

Anonymous said...

This wonderful piece reminds me of the words in the song 'Mad World' by Gary Jules.

'And I find it kind of funny, I find it kind of sad
The dreams in which i'm dying, Are the best I've ever had
I find it hard to tell you, I find it hard to take'


Your words inspire me to think, something which not all poets manage to do.




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