Acrostic Number 2: Pitch Tar Room

Prologue
it was
number five now
to cry in the pitch tar
room, the words
to a melody
fragment
mirroring me,
and my throttling thoughts
assuring me
some
sanity.

1.

Bespoke
Leather
And
Creamy
Konversation

x xx x x
2.

Suffering
Ardor
Lilts,
Trembles

X x x x
3.

Red
Ammunition,
Grinding
Emotion

Copyright 2014 Golden Star Poetry

I do not own these photographs

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