dusty
stinging burns the dry
pulling tight today
trying to set it up
and I look ridiculous
could you believe
it’s about time
she’s asking me
to make another appearance
shocking though it may be
it’s part of my defense now
a line upon my bottom lip
shaking from frustration
would you believe me
if I couldn’t be happier
since daily death leads fresh
to daily rebirth
and nothing’s more precious
than that sound of life
that view of life
this taste of life
a smell of deception
foul to the touch
with acrid hints
designs a fate:
much greater, hollow
like within a cave
where the echo
resounds its wave
mindful of a gilded hue
rosy-themed and crackling
sharpened wit adorns my view
stands alone attacking
saddled, ridden, oh the ride
blinds me now to take my eyes
sit atop the highest fence
and toss me down our common cents
Finished: 3:32 p.m., Wednesday, December 12th, 2007. (c.p.t., t.b.a.; a few edits finished around 3:46 p.m., same day.).
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