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Folie Jan 2019
On a sunny day, there is a boy walking down a aged and wore down sidewalk
He sees an elder sitting on bench waiting at the bus stop
The boy sits next to the old man on the bench
Observing him with curious eyes
The boy asks of his life and experience
The old man smiles and request that in return the child must always be grateful
For no matter how grim life can seem
There is always a good side to it
Folie Jan 2019
The dull grass holds more then you might be thinking
The hills hide secrets and the cogs are spinning
A hidden a city under the ground
None of the brainless can hear it’s sound
Come see my grand imagination
Even death is seen as pretty
No wait it’s not twisted, stay with me
My world of thoughts are waiting and you hold the key
Beyond the gate, a golden city.
Folie Jan 2019
I’m breaking hearts, It’s hardly me
Lust overwhelming my best intent
My repent doesn’t help me
Sinning doesn’t feel healthy
If there’s a easier way don’t tell me
I’ll pay with my heart, it’s the only fee.
Just wanted to make something short while I still take a break from poetry
Folie Dec 2018
When my bones turn old
Stay on the phone so I’m not cold
Company will always warm my soul
Until my last day, when you put down the phone
Folie Dec 2018
Imagery on a dead canvas
Miraculously the paint comes off

Stenching the room with sorrows from
Ordeal of sadness and sorrows this doesn’t feel
Real a endless loop melting away
Reality with the pigment falling off the art
Younger then love but too dumb post depression
Folie Dec 2018
We are not alone when we engrave
a grave tone of wishing a gravestone
all we have to do is reach out to someone that we’ve always known.
Folie Dec 2018
Bite my tongue and don't speak my time
Wait for others passion to intrigue my mind
study the cogs that tick their thoughts
Observe every minute tick that goes off on their pocket watch
Watch every glance from left to right
Approval to shun, if renewal after stun
I pay attention to how they present their shock values
Looking at the details in the mask that they value
Forked tongues wielded by angels who claim light
scorched for fun are the demons stuck in blight
The only difference is the untouched don't fight
preventing preserved wings from even taking flight
Just standing there watching with their eyes...
Behind a sealed mask.
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