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 Aug 2014 Griffin Schapp
Antonio
I'm sometimes asked with feigned surprise,
"You write poetry?"
"How Divine!
Give us a sample of your
favorite rhyme!"

But I know what they're thinking.
I see it in their eyes,
"What a waste of time."
"What a joke."
"Better hide the silver,
cuz these types are all broke."

Poetry doesn't pay the bills.
That part is so true.
But, don't deride my compulsion,
or my next hundred verses
will be about "you!"


~~~
Broken into pieces , my heart
Those things of you , i never knew
Left alone in the dark
I never thought they were true
Everything you say
Every game you play
If i'd have you here , forever
Nothing better , you and me
Together
The weather
Colder than ever
Snow falls , white pure
Nowhere near
Your black heart
Drowning myself in the ocean
Getting too deep
I cant breath
And my heart skips a beat
Here and there
Despair
Things we never share
No one's here to blame
But everyone's here to claim
They're the best
But it ain't pure blood
Running through their veins
Cause they truly **** with their hands
This is not a safe haven
Murdered with no mercy
No one to share this heaven
Lonely in this town
Only to get me down
Lovely it is truly
Everything reminds me of us
Breathless
For some seconds
And i'm sorry for the ****** things
that you've done
I tried to apologize
Long before you were gone
In this time , this fragile line
These tears of mine
These lines that rhyme
This suicide a crime
These dreams dead to me
These things that  were not
Meant to be
Drunk and high
This lovely night sky
This perfect time to die
If death comes , wipe tears
Never cry
For the truth that lies
For this very last breath of my
My tired lungs
For this voice of mine , too shy
Too scared , it's shaking
That's why
Oh my
Goodbye
I dug a little too far into myself and ended up staring at you
Suicide,
So Hard To Understand

Suicide,
So hard to understand
When it takes someone we know
It makes us stop and think about
The pain they may have shown
We talk about the life they lived
Reflect upon their past
All the things both good and bad
The memories that will last
Their action ends the pain for them
A hurt that's deep inside
But for family, friends and those who loved
We still wonder why
No longer will we hear their voice
See their smile or hold their hands
We cry and say our sweet goodbyes
Suicide,
So hard to understand


Carl Joseph Roberts
RIP
 Aug 2014 Griffin Schapp
r
Hands
 Aug 2014 Griffin Schapp
r
Those things these hands have held
gently -textured care-
tactile curiosities
life's measure

A small, blue bird's egg
broken -sadly-
mocking nature's symmetry

Ice
cold -cold-
water making shape

A stone arrow point
sharp still -old-
black as death

My mother's hand
warm -caring-
now long gone

A small dog
wiggling -happy-
nipping, licking fingers

A woman
smooth -soft-
curving heat

My son
my son, my son -my son-
now grown, love unmeasurable

A coin
gold -only-
worth little

Those things these hands have held
measured -treasured-
memorized
lifelines.

r ~ 8/12/14
\¥/\
  |     Touch
/ \
I heard that Wild Fire Billy died.

Without his coat but not his pride.

I heard that Wild Fire Billy died.



It's said, they found him on the road,

buckshot lead inside his head.

They say, they shot him from behind.

I heard that Wild Fire Billy’s dead
“There were trees there once”, he said,
as his youngest grandson looked out across the barren landscape
that went on for miles and miles before his innocent eyes.
“And animals and birds too” he continued.
“Like the ones I’ve seen on the screen?”, asked the child.
“Or the ones Momma swore she once saw in a zoo."

“What were they like?” he quizzed,
without knowing the pain and sorrow
that rested in his old grandfathers heart.

“They were beautiful child, beautiful and free,
but the greed of our kind could not let them be.
The greed of mankind was a terrible thing."

“And will they come back? "asked the boy, with hope in his eyes,
as his grandfather rose, looking up to the skies.

“Only God knows my boy, only God knows”.
"If the sea returns blue child,
then only God knows"
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