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 Mar 2016 Dark Ink
codenameDust
She looked me in the eyes and said
When the ****,
Will I be dead
And I replied:
"Not any time soon",
"You better be right"

That morning though
When she got out of bed
She slipped and fell
Down, on the floor
And broke her neck
She couldn't feel anymore

After a while
The cats feasting on her toes,
She didn't mind the mess
Cause her cats she loved the most,
But she couldn't help but wonder when
They would be up
To her neck

And I was right
And I was right
It took a while
Before she died

It took exactly
A day or two
The cops said it could even have been three
But to her it lasted
An eternity
And she got bored
So ******* bored
She hadn't ever been
At the same place
For so long

And although I know
She loved me dear
There in those hours before she died
She couldn't forgive me that I lied
And as Kitty started on her nose
She thought, quite in concern
If I had known,
This was the day
I would've dressed in something sweet
Woke up with it in my head this morning, had to jot it down before I fell asleep again. Hope you all like it.
 Mar 2016 Dark Ink
svdgrl
I pity you in your lost battles
and I hope you find it in your heart
to become better.
And not die smoking your last cigarette,
licking your self-inflicted wounds,
at the bottom of a
40 oz bottle of malt liquor,
you bought by selling your pills.
Because I cannot hate like you do,
I wish you good health.
I cannot host the best pity party
because self-deprecation
is not something I can fake
for likes and notes.
Despite your missing apologies,
your betrayal is forgiven.
Best of luck,
new stranger.
Nice to know your silent danger.
 Mar 2016 Dark Ink
codenameDust
A hint of blue lit up her hair
Who was this dark beauty
Who just stepped out of nowhere
Who was this punk creature
A pierced face, so fair?

She tries to look mean
But she doesn't know
What I have been
The things I lost
The things I have seen

My gaze passes hers
And a moment I am paralized
As I know
She too realized
I'm in awe

This secret we now share
Me and the beautiful,
Punk, mean looking girl
And her blue hair
I passed her today, was stunned by her beauty and needed to write about it.
 Mar 2016 Dark Ink
codenameDust
I do not evade
Nor shun
Visions crude
That come to aid
My drafting pen
And chaperone
To creativities den

Cause I know
Yes I know
My darkest thoughts
Will form a poem
Why is it that pain makes one creative, or does it just make you more expressive? I often wonder. Is poetry a coping-mechanism, or a sharing-mechanism?
Homemade Bluebird house's of varying color and shape
Lovely butterflies hand painted by 'Angels' dot the landscape
Red Wasp warm themselves on proud , Sun drenched shrubbery
Daffodils and Sweetgum Trees , the banter of Cardinal and Blue Jay ,
Wood Ducks flying over a world of discovery ..
Carpenter bees do challenge , a green lizard seizing a few winks on a wrought iron bannister .. A pink flowering Plum tree with a performing Carolina Wren , a brown Praying Mantis on a window screen ..
Lady Bugs riding warm breezes , Natures abundant annuities , every step a golden opportunity ..
Copyright March 23 , 2016 by Randolph L Wilson * All Rights Reserved
She was different
because of the stars in her eyes.
She was different
because the universe was her playground.
She was different
because the sun was her crown.

The planets surrounded her
and served her in grace.
Full aware of her beauty and excellence,
still she did the unthinkable.
She robbed the moon from me
leaving an empty sky to play with

She was different
because she didn't care.
 Mar 2016 Dark Ink
Poetria
Insomnia
 Mar 2016 Dark Ink
Poetria
The hungry beast.
She left me alone
For a couple of weeks;
She had left me in liberty

She has now set herself free

She's the invisible spider
Crawling all over my body.
She's the magical monster
Climbing inside of me.


I dread the nights,
I put up a fight;
Insomnia likes to cheat

She promises an hour
That hour becomes *eight

The sun leaves me blinded
I'm not ready for today...
Tonight
I've been denied my right
To a peaceful, wonderful sleep.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Inspired by Olufunke Kolapo's take on insomnia.. and ofcourse, a wide-eyed night.
 Mar 2016 Dark Ink
The Dedpoet
Because on the darkest nights
I see faint rays of the purest light,
And among the fatal deceptions
lost in exalted sorrows,
       I know that there is still poetry.
When the words are welled
Inside a throat like a fire
Waking from its slumber,
Rain the embers to paper,
      The words like a familiar pain,
      Speak as the darkness speaks,
      Take in the honest friend,
      Let them take you to tranquillity.
Because when I am at my blackest,
The poem understands me,
It speaks to me,
Cries with me,
I give my darkest to its white surface,
       A cave serrated by light,
      The words will speak in the night,
      They will light the way
      To new dawns,
And you are never alone
If you have read these words,
Because through them,
We become as one.
I'm always here if you just need to get something off your chest. I offer myself to you who might feel alone and in deep darkness.
Red brick silos reach high into my 'Grandfathers' cloudy , blue eyes ..
Forever watchful over his devoted pupils and the fruition of diligent farm labor day and night ..
Copyright March 22 , 2016 by Randolph L Wilson * All Rights Reserved
 Mar 2016 Dark Ink
Leaetta May
Somewhere the sun is shining
And the birds are singing
and the flowers are growing
And after the rain there's
a Rainbow.

Somewhere all the wars end
And the soldiers come home
And the wounds all heal
And the music plays
And everyone dances

Somewhere the children laugh
And run and giggle
And pick up rocks and
blow dandelion fluff
into the blue and white sky

Somewhere all the parents are kind
and the teachers praise
and the rulers protect
and the saviors are ourselves
and well...............we're happier.
Balancing out the angst and sorrow
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