Desperation Killed the Cat

standing at the crossroads
looking for a meal;
a stray cat cold and hungry
dust and desperation
colors my clothes
and hunger has me delusional
playing poker
with the devil himself;
holding nothing but bad luck
shaking like a reed in the wind
when cutting eyes
read me like an open book;
saying a lake of words
in one silent,
disrespectful look
turning the air cold as death--
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Comments
gotta love the internet, lol
Christopher what's up man? A lot of really awesome lines comprised through out this write. I get the cat which could be a slang word for the man who as desperate as he is now all nine lives seemingly ran out at the same time. When the devil gives him that disrespectful look after reading him and his situation it struck me odd like he hadn't even a desirable soul to bargain with the devil. As always a very interesting and thought worthy write from you brother.
Brad, lol... thank you for the comment, and I will edit it later and put a cat in it somehow; promise
Devon, I'm well, bro....been putting in long hours with a few projects I'm tryin to finish this week, thanks for comment....I'll message you later, cheers
I agree 100% with Cherie. You are an impeccable writer. You always create so much imagery. Good job man. keep it coming
Amber, me and my ego thank you very much, lol.....a very nice thing to say, I'm always trying to get better, believe me....have a wonderful day, my friend
Cherie, thank you so much for your gracious comment, and please forgive me, I don't come on Cosmo as much as I used to, so I miss a lot....I'm wondering if I'm over the internet poetry site thing, lol... been thinking a lot recently about writing a book on the subject; the fascination with it, it really is an entity filled with interesting people, talented as well....not really driven to write or post poetry lately, been reading a lot though, thanks again for comment, sis. be well
This poem is a lurch into a bitter doom that begs nothing from the cosmos save the voice to scream without lungs or judgement. A bitter pill and a blossom taking up space in the same point of a pointless suffering. A discreet gamble that confesses the crossroads have their charm and hexing devils, but a man walks to them. You shine a light where a dark thing squats in the corner of a round room. You wrote a poem.
thank you, August, your comment fuels my ego even more....with all the sincerity I can muster, thank you....I appreciate the time you invested in reading this, and your comment is more than kind, cheers
Thanks, Whispy Whisp, I appreciate your kindness, have great day, glad you liked....