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Last night I drowned in whiskey sighs
and long forgotten names.
Scenes of a life on showreel flickered
past my smoke dried eyes.
Reaping memories from curled photographs dampened by the mists of time,
harvesting my youth for sustenance against my growing years.

We stood beer-brave in tented fields
sunshine grins grimaced at *** wide eyes,
bare feet caked in ancient loam
as we danced with the joy of jesters
to a beat unheard as it carried.

We vibrant few, army booted, rainbow clothed
misunderstanding forever,
believing it was ours to keep in tattooed burlap.
While too many Floyd wrapped sunsets slowly sealed our fates.
In life we are all living in our own reality show
Went to the word market
looking for bargains.

found some:    cheap PAIN
                          cheap LOVE
                          HURTS galore.

In the fancy alluring boxes
Almost ****** me in.

Rack on rack:  Disobedience
                          Bad Choices
                          PLEASE NO MORE

All went in **** Bags

Box upon box of
A clean looking place
nothing fancy

I saw baskets full
Running over
                          Faith
                          Hope
                          Love.

­                          Redemption
                          Gr­ace
                          Mercy

ALL WERE FREE.

Some of the same words
used differently...
Love was fulfilling
Pain and Hurts were still there
but in the distant memory.

Redemption and Hope were
in strong demand this time of year.

There was "scent of Rose"
lingering in the air.
Memories of love
caressed my spirit.  

The place was not crowded
the people were the best.
Has been in draft for 3.5 years. Just kicked it out.
How can I do this alone?
Each time depression hits
Leaving me inside my head
Praying someone understands



Making me feel if I'm trapped
Everywhere seems always closed
Copyright Chris Smith 2014
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