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She’s like turning on the radio and hearing a brand new song.

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Brand Herself Music Radio Song

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Marilyn Monroe Paulo Coelho Abraham Lincoln C. S. Lewis Khalil Gibran Charlie Chaplin Gautama Buddha Isaac Newton

In an endless universe, she needed space.
TONY COBLE

Herself Need Space Universe
Love lives. and dies. as fast as butterflies.
TONY COBLE

Death Fast Fly Live Love
She’s like turning on the radio and hearing a brand new song.
TONY COBLE

Brand Herself Music Radio Song
True love is letting her know that her ass really does look fat in those jeans.
TONY COBLE

Appearance Funny Herself Love True
She was a broken sky, where stars never shine and butterflies die.
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Break Butterfly Death Shine Sky
We are only beautiful monsters, dreaming of god.
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Beautiful Dreams God Monster
There’s this thing that hurts inside me all the time. Because I know what’s coming.
TONY COBLE

Hurt Myself Time
She was only a collection of flaws and she was beautiful.
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Beautiful Collection Flaw Herself
She wanted romance. I just wanted to fuck the stars out of her eyes.
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Eyes Myself Romance Sex Stars
Always falling but not for anything.
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Attitude Fall One Liner
She’s just a girl. But her pussy makes me see god.
TONY COBLE

Girl God Herself Myself See Sex Woman
I wake to find her there, with glowing eyes and tangled hair. She is my sunrise.
TONY COBLE

Eyes Glow Hairs Myself Surprise Wake Up
Sometimes I wonder if these rain soaked shoes will get me home.
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Home Myself Rain Shoes Time Wonder
Lets die. Alone. Like we always do.
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Break Up Heart Herself Summer
I gave her address to my soul. Ans she fucked the mailman.
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Address Herself Mail Man Soul
Failures often become art. And art can never fail.
TONY COBLE

Art Failure Myself Wisdom
This heart. It’s broke. I don’t want it anymore.
TONY COBLE

Broken Heart Heart Myself
It’s funny how love fades, and they become more than a poem about yesterday.
TONY COBLE

Fade Love Past Poem
Break me. Until there’s nothing left and I’ll be free.
TONY COBLE

Break Freedom Myself
A lot of ugly people hide behind beautiful eyes. A lot of things are only lies.
TONY COBLE

Beautiful Hide Lying People
Summer looks the same. But last summer she loved me.
TONY COBLE

Couple Love Myself Relationship Summer
Sometimes there are no words. Sometimes, it’s just poetry.
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Poetry Silence Word
I messed up a lot of things. I called it poetry.
TONY COBLE

Call Mess Myself Poetry
Her memory still lingers, like a cockroach in my heart.
TONY COBLE

Heart Herself Memories
She’s like a jar of butterflies, waiting to be opened.
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Butterfly Herself Open Wait
With her, the world becomes art.
TONY COBLE

Art Herself World
Poems are a nice way of saying fuck you.
TONY COBLE

Poem Talk Voice Yourself

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