nyc boy

nyc boy Poems

My suicide bride
I know I have no chance,
for you have made your choice.
...

So you’ve peaked at my profile
to see what you can see,
But were alarmed
at no name and no biography.
...

The rhythm and flow takes a dark toll.
For the dance in my head never stops and plays dead.
It’s 3am, with bags in my eyes; the fever still spies, a troll
that cant stop writing.
...

My Bob n Flow
My promise to you, this bob n flow, which comes to me…unpredictable,
It comes n goes, I’m sure you know, how long it’s going to last.
You’re serious writers, studied and true, your works…delectable,
...

nyc boy Biography

So you’ve peaked at my profile to see what you can see, But were alarmed at no name and no biography. You think to yourself what kind of schmuck is this? To write a poem. Why no creds? Is the poem even his? I do indeed live in the New York of City A wondrous land, if you love anonymity My writing, It is just a lobby to go to the pain that is apart of reality which is just a simple hobby to flow, for no gain to impart, just my misery. For critic’s glee, give a rat’s behind, can’t care less of format or style For fault in me, where I already find, the critique’s insult to injury.. completely vile. & yes there may be self loathing there But walk a mile in my moccasins, need I say, 'on a dare? ' So my friends please pay no heed to this coward’s shame to stay anonymous. no friends, no home, no wife…no seed, if you don’t know my name, I can pretend to be one of us. Latin from Manhattan. NYCboy)

The Best Poem Of nyc boy

My Suicide Bride

My suicide bride
I know I have no chance,
for you have made your choice.

I saw your nod dance.

you hear…its sultry voice,
whilst riding the white pony.

Sure to bronco with its hex,
I tell you, “The dragon is a phony”.

My horror… rather complex.

I curse this disease so feeble,
but just made it worst.

I should have known the needle…
…would always come first.

I tried to make you stop,
whilst with a cotton, you're cookin'.

Now, like a dirty wasted mop…
… I’m on the outside, in-lookin’,
to the curb is how I got burned.

but you won’t let me go,
how sad this marriage has turned
our anniversary… this final act of the show.

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