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DeathbedWhen I lie on my deathbed,
I have no where else to go.
I have nothing I can do,
But stay in wait for you.
I have no one else to help me,
for God, you must be near
You must help me find my way
And help me loose my fear.
For God, I don't know where to be
Since I've lost all I've known
My pain and memory have failed me
And I lie in the soil where I was gladly sown.
And above me, on the crisp grass
Sits a freshly carved gravestone.
No name,no date no flowers
Just "R.I.P" alone.
So if you'd ask me for my last wish,
You would face my sorrow then.
For there is one thing I would like to ask,
"I don't want to live again."
FreddyWithin the gusts and gale on a mid-winter eve
Sits a boy who's thoughts are as clear as those in a new pensieve.
And he wears, with an 'F' stitched on it, a tattered sweater,
As he writes his lost twin a letter;
"The mirror talks to me, Freddy.
It keeps me going sane and steady.
And although I know I don't see what I do,
I'm too weak to tell myself it's not you,
It IS you"
CryCry if you need to
Do it for yourself
Cry if you want to
Over someone else
Cry like you mean it
Make it all okay
Cry like you have to
Get it out the way
Cry in the darkness
So no one can see
Cry in the sunlight
So you can be free
Cry like it kills you
Feel every tear
Cry like it’s healing
Nothing else to fear
Cry for the moment
The last goodbye
Cry for the memories
Cry, baby, cry
Cry, cry to Heaven
For the angel that fell
And if that doesn't work
Then cry, baby
Cry like Hell...
SuperheroAs the night time fell,
grew a city into hell.
In this city of misbehaving,
the city folk need saving.
From the roof of a tall apartment complex,
stood a boy of blonde with white wear.
A young teen of only fifteen,
who must rid this town of its misdeeds.
He gazed at his struggling city
and felt no pity,
as he knew what must be done.
To free the innocent of fear,
the guilty he must make disappear.
After all it was all too fun,
but not so much for all
who wanted to see him fall.
He lifted his head to the cities cries,
to prevent a demise a hero must rise.
not the leastspent the night
thankfully unable to
catch up with sorrow
tripped over regret
so quick to conspire
fanned the flame
fed the beast
not the least
of my problems
DemolitionThe dirt of dusty decades
Lies upon the lath
Beneath a piece of plaster
I found a photograph
They smiled from the centuries;
Those mysterious three
Sent the musty memories
A message meant for me
Sara’s grave is gone, I guess
So long since laid low,
Yet, despite her ancient death
She smiles and waves ‘hello’
I cannot tell Annie’s age,
The words do not say
The owner wrote only names
Her face has frayed away
The baby in the buggy
Lifts a lively hand
She sits between her sisters
Beside the shining sand
This will be the only piece
From the dust so brown
That preserves their memory
Once this house is torn down
May you always Smile.I found no life -nor sign there of- when I entered my home this day.
Lost in an endless heat, brought by merciless May.
The place I was -that I found- was empty and I chanced to say: I have a time.
Callas I discarded -forsaken and unguarded- the tools of wrath and war.
Abandoned and unwanted -alone but not undaunted- left to rust on murky floor.
Smell of battle follows as I head for iron door: to wash this wounded body of crime.
Water comes to dull my pain and, in its ice -like rooftop rain- comes a feeling ill.
‘Does a reflection smile?’ Its master is grieved and slightly wild, but this is not his
Emerald skin feels emerald skin to confirm, yon smile is not mine.
“Hark” I said “What trick is this? Doth water fail? Doth it see my frown amiss?”
Lo, no words -as expected- and in this query I rejected: tis merely something to dismiss.
But woe, smile came once more and, unsettled and unsure, I left the water’s shine.
An empty Lair filled with
Speak.The Blue Jay whistles to the Dove.
The Dove Whistles to the Crow.
But the chances the Blue Jay's word gets to the Crow,
is a chance that can never be known.
Rainbow in the CloudsWhen things seem down,
when hope fails you,
when you feel weakened...
Look to the sky
for a smile from above.
A rainbow set in cloud
a sight to be seen.
With colors of red,
of blue and of green.
We are smiling at you,
we are here to bring you
You have not been forgotten
nor have you forgotten us.
We are here for you
even though we may
not be there with you
in physical form.
Our souls will travel
through time and through space
to where you are
We eagerly await
the day we can once more
to weather the storms.
We will continue
to call you home
so that you do not
lose your way.
What a grand day
it will be
to see you
where you belong
more than anywhere else
Not creatures of light [Art Trade]A pair of two, laugh into the night
Boy and girl, not creatures of light
Cackles of laughter escape their lips
For tonight it was a night filled with tricks!
One named Lily, with hair so white
One named Lucy, who enjoyed every fright
For there was only one who could see
But for tonight, he was no where to be.
Whispers in ears and blinking car lights
Screams of terror under the dim starlight
A push that was from no one, a loud laugh
A slip on ice, a chair split in half!
There was endless fun, for this endless night
Who could ask more, but the humans' plight?
But the one who could see soon arrived
Staring at those had barely survived
And off they went! Into the night
Fleeing from him, before he could fight
It was fun while it lasted, look around!
But now to escape, before they were found
The Great Don TollanStuck walking on a road meant for horses and trucks
Stinking of sweat that burns in the corner of my eyes
And struggling not to limp with the holes in the size-
Too big shoes given by a patron who didn’t give two fucks –
This is my routine, my life after cutting all ties.
I came in off a truck from down south,
Running to the fields when word of mouth
Told of jobs and food for those willing to
Work – a steady living that was fulfilling too.
In the desert of San Joaquin I learned the truth –
There was no work, nor plant life to speak of,
Nor jobs – not weeding and not serving a booth
In the diner down the street where the customers reek of
Illegal drugs – their own anxieties to thereby soothe.
In clothes eight months overdue for a wash
I walked into the home of Don Alejandro Tollan –
A picture of a former empire’s class – considerably posh
For his original livelihood, he was now wan
And haggard from a certain wasting disease
That he h
WarriorWhen the nights was a sea of darkness,
Stolen from Hell's own depths
When the meadows, in their starkness,
Welcomed a warrior's quite steps.
He came then, with his armour white,
His horse as black as his enemy's heart,
He came then, heard only by the night,
To tear his foe apart.
With his blade held high, up to the stars,
His legion lying defeated far ahead,
With the moonlight on his face to light his scars,
He marched into the Fields of the Dead.
He galloped within, into the looming grass,
His ghostly silhouette shimmering within its shade
He cantered forward, like a phantom of dread, but alas!
The mighty King had been betrayed.
There, awaiting him, was his enemy's friend
An ally, a partner a constant consort.
Who else brought the warrior's life to a tragic end?
None but the heir to the throne, King's son himself.
And till this day, on the dawn of a black night
On the fields where the warrior did bleed,
Comes a King, armour glowing white,
A ghost of the shadows, a phantom indeed.
Volpi.You will find that the story you tell
is very rarely your own. In Lucca,
even the smallest pebbles
breathe in the warm sunlight.
Knotted stones and cobbled roads
beat out a paper-dry heartbeat heat
my city breathes in and out,
inhales sparrow air.
It's writing a story.
You are the pen.
You will find that in Lucca
the daisy chains forge fire
in side streets and back alleys.
Teenagers intertwine. Tell me,
odd flower, are you still closed?
Here we are colored wax;
the heat of the city melts us.
We run into each other, rhapsody
of pigments. Operas are our specialties.
Open up; feel the reds.
If not, try and see them. There is a place
of deep knife marks, a street
long as midnight
you may learn something there.
Valentina's voice glimmers like red wine.
You may enjoy intoxications. Still,
know alcohol has no story
and will swallow your own.
Find the sign with the wolf on it.
You'll know the place. Epiphanies ring true as church-bells.
Lucca still guides the wanderers
to well sp
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