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Sometimes there are no words. Sometimes, it’s just poetry.

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Poetry Silence Word

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

Late nights. Poetry. Cigarettes. and a wounded heart, trying to forget you.
TONY COBLE

Forget Heart Night Poetry Try Wound Yourself
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
I liked her simplicity. She wanted coffee and orgasms.
TONY COBLE

Coffee Herself Simplicity
Romance is a dream. I can get better shit at the liquor store.
TONY COBLE

Alcohol Dreams Myself Romance
Lets die. Alone. Like we always do.
TONY COBLE

Break Up Heart Herself Summer
True love is letting her know that her ass really does look fat in those jeans.
TONY COBLE

Appearance Funny Herself Love True
Women are beautiful. But some are made of hell.
TONY COBLE

Beautiful Hell Woman
She wanted romance. I just wanted to fuck the stars out of her eyes.
TONY COBLE

Eyes Myself Romance Sex Stars
I’m wrong but I’m real.
TONY COBLE

Myself Reality Wrong
Sometimes I wonder if these rain soaked shoes will get me home.
TONY COBLE

Home Myself Rain Shoes Time Wonder
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
She was only a collection of flaws and she was beautiful.
TONY COBLE

Beautiful Collection Flaw Herself
Failures often become art. And art can never fail.
TONY COBLE

Art Failure Myself Wisdom
I gave her address to my soul. Ans she fucked the mailman.
TONY COBLE

Address Herself Mail Man Soul
She was an artist on top of me, and soaked my sheets with poetry.
TONY COBLE

Artist Myself Poetry Sex

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