TIP JAR

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Ink Colored Flesh

By Kevin Miller

The needle digs into my arm this time,
as I look at past creations from my mind.

Most are good, some are bad,
there's a name I wish I didn't have.

Each one carries a memory from a different time,
and even if I would have never got any, they would all still be mine.

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Comments

  1. dude, where the hell do ya keep getting these nice posts frm? ha! nice poem indeed. very truthful and meaningful.

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  2. it's a secret! but if you take the first flight back to Singapore, I'll tell ya! deal?

    ReplyDelete
  3. ha! i would if could you have no idea how much i miss home. ha. and the sambal stingray, prata, teh tarik, laksa..

    oh man..

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  4. oh man...i'm sorry Jon. I know you miss home and all. You'll be back soon right? November isn't too far away :)

    ReplyDelete

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