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 Dec 2015 Dead lover
Cody Haag
The world doesn't cater,
Neither does it care;
Each has his own
Cross to bear.

Society vomits on those
Who express emotion;
It laughs in their faces,
"What a silly notion!"

Display uniqueness,
That's a terrible crime;
You'll become the target of belittlement,
Your pain to pass the time.

Messed up world,
Messed up creatures;
These are some of the
World's features.

There is hope,
There is a chance;
Throw off the hate,
Dance the dance.
Laying upon the dust laden wasteland
The last man on Earth reminisces.
Bygone days like that of yellow sand
Riding the stale wind, his bare skin kisses.

Throat yearns for rivers that used to flow
Carrying fish with its mighty currents.
Earth’s green lungs blackened like the crow
Feasting on cadavers raining in torrents.

Phantoms of loved ones sustain his breath,
If only he’d spent more time with them.
He worked to live and lived to work to death,
Unaware how worthless were his gems.

Pursuit of happiness was man’s downfall,
For they sought it neglecting the essential.
Polluting, colluding until nothing was all,
Extracting the entirety of Earth’s potential.

War, famine, pestilence, typical ending.
If only the warnings were heeded,
And appreciation for nature’s tending,
Then maybe we’d have proceeded.

You don’t know what you have until it’s gone.
Now it is too late to right our wrongs.
I whispered into her lips
and echoed love
she whispered back
and echoed never...
Surrounded by mud
our feet make love to the surface

the bullets kiss us, the bayonets hug
our intestines and the blankets
cuddle with our cold, decaying corpses

we write to our wives, letters that will never be delivered

the wet ground gives our feet an unpleasant present
in the form of gangrene, the rats
make themselves at home feasting upon the rotten
flesh of fallen comrades while the maggots make use
of newly formed skulks and aged decaying bone

then comes the symphony of artillery
the roar of gunfire, the marching of tanks
the mighty foot soldiers, and
the majestic golden smoke of mustard gas

the trenches become our unwanted love
and unholiest of homes, "the tears do not shed
the blood does not spill, and the soldier does not die"
is the common the battle cry sung upon us
constantly by our commanders

but on the contrary
these bitter notes of blind fate forever sing to us
the illusion of life and the irony of war.....
Go ahead and ***** your finger
let the blood spill on to the paper
for blood is more effective
than ink will ever be
 Dec 2015 Dead lover
Cristina
it's awful and painful
to miss someone you've never met.
 Dec 2015 Dead lover
penn
82 of 100
 Dec 2015 Dead lover
penn
I almost fell
But no arms were open to catch me.
I almost held your hands
But yours just slipped away.
I almost looked you in the eye
But you turned to stare the other way.
I almost kissed your eyes
But you kept it close.
We're almost a connection
But you cut strings, lost threads.
I almost believe that once upon a times end in happy ever afters
But fairytales are myths
Just like an us that won't ever exist.
I almost love you.
I'm almost there.
Almost.
But almost wasn't worth the risks.
It wasn't enough.
And it would never be.
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