Jimi was crazy in his days of purple haze Getting tossed with the sauce As a mouse is stuck in its maze Had screaming sounds with his guitar He was a shooting star Never will there ever be a man quite like Jimi He was willing to achieve With hey Joe where you going with that gun in your hand
I hope society today will live to understand Playing his guitar with his tongue This may have frightened a tender hearted nun but it was all in fun Cross town traffic was fantastic He had a heart of gold To bad he had to die Jimi was the man with plan
Mario William Vitale is a poet with over 1,000 toward his platform. Vitale was born October 23rd, 1970 in Bristol, Ct. Currently living in Wolcott, Ct where he helps as a care taker for his elderly handicapped mother Ann. Vitale is featured as a writer on Poetrysoup, Writerscafe & Allpoetry. Has a fan base on facebook with over 650 followers. He started writing poems in 1989 after the break up of his first girlfriend as a way to cope with life.
Look how the sky changes rapidly though as in fazes stopping still the clouds do hoover like above the trees to look we turn our faces dim though the reality seems recollecting our midnight dreams Dark and rampant with the
I leave this world as ignorant as when I came into it, my hands empty, my heart full. I have no answers, only questions, no certainties, only doubts. The fear of death has been my most loyal companion, the cry of
A misbelief breaks into rags. Still I dream of some gods on black pages piecing together the words of light. The rains come in the cage of tears, voicelessly. Striated muscles of splintered faith go to cramps birthing the avatar