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Cory Apr 2018
Your name repeated as if I were young
Forever remains on the tip of my tongue
Enthralled by Raven hair and lace
Your crimson lips make my heart race
Your eyes consume
As a great and crashing typhoon
A glance and I'm gone
Drug underneath the waves,
And lost forever in the tide.
I embrace the pull
I am home
And I am free
I wrote this for someone on a napkin and I was going to put it under her coffee cup one morning to find. But, never did and now it's too late for such foolish endeavors. She was my inspiration, but now because of my failure I could spill a thousand words on my broken heart.
229 · Apr 2018
Untitled
Cory Apr 2018
Bury the caskets, Forever we rot
Just don't sleep so easy,for justice is sought.
We fed and we helped you,
we crawled in the dirt.
So why is it now, I have blood on my shirt?

You are betrayal in all of it's forms
You are the reason we sleep with the worms

I pack up my things and I head for the road
Confession of death, in a breath it is sowed.
The force is impressive, dread rings in my ears.
Why must this befall me?
My greatest of fears.

The shadow of night reaches over my face.
Despite of my training I'm quite the disgrace.
Shredded forever a cut that won't heal.
I'm tasting the cold bitter bite of the steel.

Cursed souls are condemned those you opted to take.
A terrible boom and the ground starts to shake.
I lie in my grave, try it out for a bit.
The anger subsides with some help from my kit.

Desolate hope being entranced by the fire.
Now fallen to ashes too scourched to inspire.
My friends are now dead because of your lies.
Without even a chance to tell them goodbye.

The love that we had
The joy that we shared
The wings of an angel
Forever ensnared
A sad poem I wrote about the day my friend s were killed in an ied blast in Baghdad.
181 · Apr 2018
Incomplete, unnamed
Cory Apr 2018
I was just a boy,
Working hard to be a man.
I wanted my revenge,
So I headed for the sand.
I threw away my books,
Traded in for army greens.
I picked up my rifle,
And worked on looking mean.

I the clay
A master sculptor
Took me in his hand
As he began to shape me,
I knew his plan was grand.
Plucked away my fear.
Implanted a new craze.
And by the time he's done,
I didn't fear the end of days

I look into the mirror,
My heart beating like a drum.
I try to catch a glimpse
Of the stranger I've become.
Tears well in my eyes
No longer could I see
That playful southern boy
From middle Tennessee

.....

— The End —