Nothing hurts like being tarred
With the same bush and evil cards
So just when the sun began to melt
And it seemed there was nothing left
Knowing you would never be back
As shadows spread out in the dark
I stretched out a gun and pulled the trigger
With no atom of regret nor did I shiver.
Sad? Tell me how could I fold my hands
While you fade out before my eyes
Into the crazy thin air on a journey
Of trusting, falling and cuddling…
Especially when it was made from flatters,
With the truth labelled monsters;
And a large cake which is not worth
Your precious burning candles and sweats.
I loved the sounds and images in this poem,
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Thank you Molly Shea… I am glad and happy you did relate with both text and the imagination behind the ink. I appreciate
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