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End Of An Era

If not for bad luck, Id have none at all,
would love to rise, but always fall.
I've come close a few times,
but all I have are stupid rhymes.
Not sorry for what I used to write,
used to think my future was bight.
Now it's gloomy and it's dark,
I have no bite and barely a bark.
Used to think, I'd be famous,
all I am is a big fat ****.
Doing my best, but nothing works,
can't wait til I'm a corpse.
My caring days are long gone,
nothing more than a silly pawn.
Don't even feel like writing anymore,
rhyming has become nothing but a bore.
Thank you all for your support,
but my rhyming, I must abort.

If not for bad luck, Id have none at all,
would love to rise, but always fall.
I've come close a few times,
but all I have are stupid rhymes.
Not sorry for what I used to write,
used to think my future was bight.
Now it's gloomy and it's dark,
I have no bite and barely a bark.
Used to think, I'd be famous,
all I am is a big fat ****.
Doing my best, but nothing works,
can't wait til I'm a corpse.
My caring days are long gone,
nothing more than a silly pawn.
Don't even feel like writing anymore,
rhyming has become nothing but a bore.
Thank you all for your support,
but my rhyming, I must abort.
 Mar 2014 Edward Alan
Katie Lew
Gone before I could remember her.
I silently told the world I was leaving
packed my bags ready to go
This was a one way
no turning back trip

I had been planning this for months
thinking everything detail through,
I wasn't scared like I
had been before

Something felt different this time
It felt right  

I got on the plane that would fly me to the unknown
As I looked outside the window one last time
I silently waved goodbye to the world
My baby's not getting out

I'm keeping it inside daily

"too soon, too soon" I mentally shout

while humming to my mound gaily

there's been the panicked hospital drive

blood oozing down my legs

that trying to keep 'it' alive

my desperate to doctor begs



See this is my 4th pregnancy

each one greeted with hope

I've already lost three

this time I  don't think I'd cope

they can't tell me why

done every  test

all we can do is try

nature does the rest



5 months I've laid in this bed

legs crossed not moving

each bleed fills me with dread

but each day in, chances improving

please say a prayer for me

we need all the help we can get

that inside stays my baby

'its' not ready to come out, not yet
 Mar 2014 Edward Alan
Sam Temple
stain glass backdrop distorting sunlight
prisms dance ballerina-esque across drab wall treatments
a dusty sofa waits for weight
undisturbed spider webs cast thin shadows
still air, thick, smells of old woman floral perfume
it is in this hallowed place that God is said to reside
pews arranged in rows all facing front
obsessive-compulsive God cannot handle uneven praying
his vehicle, a balding *******, writes of God’s love
on a pizza strained napkin
Dominos delivering salvation from hunger
for pennies on the slice
slit wrists bleed crimson pools
he knows they are at the door
but the supple skin of the new altar boy was too much to bear
and isn’t God all about forgiveness anyway
shame and loathing fill the sanctuary
as consciousness begins to fade
looking at the crucifix, tears stream down blushing cheeks
which is the bigger sin he thinks
**** or suicide
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