Tan pants stained with a thin black line
I wear them all the time
Nothing fancy, nothing fine
Comfy clothes in which to climb
The mark on my thigh a reminder of the day
Sitting in the car thinking I'd something to say
No one to say it to so I searched for a pen
Finding myself in a miserable mood again
Hoping by scribbling I could put it to an end
The lesson learned: when my verse grows darker
Don't try to write using a permanent marker
About Me
- jeffwenker
- I'm a writer and PR guy living on an island in Puget Sound. Born in Los Angeles on the same day California was admitted into the union (but not the same year), graduated from Berkeley with a degree in History (Russian), walked the earth, freelanced in San Francisco, wrote anything to survive, rode the tech boom and bust, now trying to figure out what I want to be when I grow up.
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