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Our backs hold stories
Not even the spine
On a book can handle
empty,
everything is empty,
one misstep
and you're dead

isolation and
fear
fills the room,
it's cold a dark,
deathly stares
are all that i receive,
the world has become
primitive,
the weak are
left for dead,
the strong
survive,
but the fearful
are the most cruel.
everything is so busy now; college admissions, the coronavirus, everything. sorry for the lack of content
 Mar 2020 Richard Frank
JaxSpade
On the roadside
I sit on the edge
Of a flat spare tire

All the cars fly by
Like Stallions
Toward their checkered flags

I stare into the dust
From where I was made from

And I beg for the return

Then flashing lights
Issue me a ticket

Their help is a threat
Telling me to get my car off the road

They returned to their box of donuts
While i remained in the cold

There was no one I could call
Or funds to be drawn

Just a blurry stare
At the end of the road
The end of the road stared at me
Mocking my raspberries
Those dusty eyes peered inside
My blurry eyes
And spit in my face

I was just another corpse
Laying on the floor
A skeleton of war
Another casualty bleeding out
The horror

Time was a crimson red
Dripping the last hours of victory
I laid their at the side of the road
A cold slab
Introduced to the ends mystery

I've heard about this before
There's only six feet more
Before the journey ends
And the nails are driven forth

I had no strength to drawn on
My prayers drew deaf to heaven
And now all I can do
Is drink the cup
I've been given

On the side of the road
It's just me here
Laying in the dust of my corazon
For a few weeks there is now a lock-down:
In my dreams I am wand'rin 'round the town,
Visiting places I've not seen before,
Now that I am behind a bolted-door.
To every beauty spot my mind will float,
Oft-times in my imaginary boat.
Where'er I go is colourful and bright -
My mind's eye has given me supersight.
 Mar 2020 Richard Frank
Ayn
A soul caught in the past,
A planet covered in cables
Was never meant to last.

Fly the flags half mast,
And wait for it to pass.
Love flies up in a flume,
But why will these flowers
Never bloom?
I can only wonder... and regret.
Dead roses
I never threw them out
let them stay like this
then it'll be like our love
dead and left behind
These are the hands that will guide you to greatness,
These are the hands that will stay through the years,
These are the hands that will celebrate good times,
And these are the hands that will wipe away tears.

These are the hands that will love you forever;
When you are weak they will help you feel strong,
And, right now, since these hands are entwined together
These hands are precisely where they belong
Recently I was asked to write and perform a hand-binding wedding ceremony for two of the loveliest people I know while I was dressed as a dragon. It's definitely one of the best things I've ever done, and I doubt I'll ever do anything like it again! This is the poem I wrote for the special moment.
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