Someone plays with someone

a lover snores besides a someone.

the daughter of someone is in a bedroom

pulling air through a harmonica.

the sun is out and someone sits with goose bumps.

someone has turned grey as a rain weathered tin.

someone’s heart is twisty sensitivity and has not yet learned to swallow. Darfur. Iraq. Afghanistan

war torture. Cuba…WWIII, the love of family.

someone’s grandmother comes to visit and leaves.

someone’s friend calls. someone gives advice, says, “find a lover

you can sit and talk with

laughter holds hands into sticky glances.

someone’s daughter goes outside to a ride a scooter

someone’s lover snore stops and becomes a whisper.

someone is sad and blessed

someone is lonely and surround by carpet. someone doesn’t know

what a someone is, only what a bomb is not.

all the creative ideas

that someone hasn’t learned

to control are the pieces that someone tastes and savors.

someone can’t shake the snakes, or explain

the need of death by whips and earthquakes.

someone needs a bath with potato soap and someone brushes

the lives that someone tangles and never notices. someone

moans for the someone who someone is mis-teaching.

and someone is searching for a home for someone who is homeless. and someone

is playing dice down -out into a hall to make someone some money. Someone is dodging

work to go to a war and haircut. someone is looking in a fridge

and someone is watching tv. someone

pretends that someone’s feet are planted on the ground. someone is nobody cause they are dead

cause someone has just blown off someone’s head. someone is singing

words of evolution. and someone is wondering

when someone will peek into someone’s eyes, and hand

someone a rye and Swiss sandwich. a someone is scared to go outside alone or

talk with someone over the phone. someone doesn’t want someone

to know someone writes death letters to someone’s self. someone is sick

and poor. someone is rich and disconnected by a fence around their yard. someone is birthed

and someone eats noodles without sauce. someone is

a friend for life and someone has cancer of the mouth.

someone is an artist and someone is

nurse. and someone utters a little curse.

someone listens and someone blesses the life-giving tree.

and someone won’t ever be free. someone

lives their life internally. and someone is trying

to figure out who someone is, and someone won’t

find the answer, while someone will know it doesn’t matter.

someone marches for peace and someone doesn’t want to come home from war

someone needs a hug, and someone’s been over touched. someone is on

drugs, and someone wishes drugs could fix someone’s problems

Author: annieepoetry

I am poet. I am woman. I write with my thumbs. Read my poems. Tell me what You think. You may find the love poem you always thought someone wrote for you. Or the one you meant to write But Becareful lovers tell zingers and often break hearts Milky Way Earth U.S.A Madison WI

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