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We search for meaning. And destroy it.

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

She was simple. Like a poem, and always dressed in sunshine.
TONY COBLE

Herself Poem Simplicity Sunshine
Sometimes I wonder if these rain soaked shoes will get me home.
TONY COBLE

Home Myself Rain Shoes Time Wonder
There’s this thing that hurts inside me all the time. Because I know what’s coming.
TONY COBLE

Hurt Myself Time
I never drink in the morning. Mornings are for drugs.
TONY COBLE

Drink Drugs Morning Myself
Poems are a nice way of saying fuck you.
TONY COBLE

Poem Talk Voice Yourself
There’s a strange beauty in her. She shines like hell.
TONY COBLE

Beautiful Hell Herself Shine Strange
She was a broken sky, where stars never shine and butterflies die.
TONY COBLE

Break Butterfly Death Shine Sky
Always falling but not for anything.
TONY COBLE

Attitude Fall One Liner
Lets die. Alone. Like we always do.
TONY COBLE

Break Up Heart Herself Summer
It’s funny how love fades, and they become more than a poem about yesterday.
TONY COBLE

Fade Love Past Poem
He opened her cages, and freed the things inside.
TONY COBLE

Cage Freedom Myself Open
She’s no rose. But in her I see the beauty of thorns.
TONY COBLE

Beautiful Herself Myself Rose See
In an endless universe, she needed space.
TONY COBLE

Herself Need Space Universe
We are only beautiful monsters, dreaming of god.
TONY COBLE

Beautiful Dreams God Monster
She’s just a girl. But her pussy makes me see god.
TONY COBLE

Girl God Herself Myself See Sex Woman
Failures often become art. And art can never fail.
TONY COBLE

Art Failure Myself Wisdom

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