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  May 2020 Mark kenny
k
Without knowing what else to do
What else to write
I sit and glare at a book only half finished
I look for help
Nothing seems to help my writer’s block
Getting rid of a character might do the trick

The protagonist?
Maybe?
Or maybe not
I don’t know

I’m just tired of writing this autobiography
Just when you think
the road leads to nowhere
crops up the moss veiled house

its crumbling bricks make greyer
the sky with the hush of twilight
and you rue with melancholy
the night under its roof assigned for you

but the old man like a seasoned spider
lets you forget you're trapped for the night
to his web spun from timeworn earth
as you stare engrossed upon his face
outlined by glowworm sparks

he recounts it was all marshland
he grew into bowl of harvest
and how he was blessed with
the most beautiful woman on earth
then reaching the crescendo
his words thin into whispers
when he tells you his two poor eyes
were not enough to hold her beauty
so she putting a stone on her heart
spread wings on a night like this

the cornfield wilted
he wizened into an endless wait
with gracious death saving his bones
to lighten his heart to a stranger
who comes alone.
Mark kenny May 2020
Another life lost in the slum is nothing new to those who can relate
But the hidden mystery behind this new corpse left people more than they could relate.

Two slugs were pulled out while he was lieing behind his back has he lay  lifeless
Cold hands of death snatching another innocent life turning him lifeless.

Tired of saying this same stories I wouldn't be the one behind the camera next
Life in the slums isn't what you picture you never know who appears on the camera next.

Two slugs is a new slogan as soon as another body is seen on the floor fighting for his last breathe
As we secure what was left behind the little memories was just wondering about how he lost his breathe.
I wasn't thinking straight while I drafed the demise of a soul so dear to me but the streets snatched another brother
  May 2020 Mark kenny
Heather
How do I cope with the pain.
Everyday I drift away.
I can't cry and I wonder why.
Taking pill after pill.
All I do is lay still.
Music and yelling in the background.
Just laying there wondering when this will end.
Everything goes black and I wake up the next day with a worse pain.
All I can think is "when will this all go away"
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