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hamishian Sep 2014
My thoughts spilling
Into the hands and mouths of others
A scattered page,
Like a loose bolt
Letting the red apples clutter the concrete
With tiny shards of peel.

No sense of place
The scraps are allocated
By the severity of the stain they leave behind.

I wander through wet and murky streets
Clouded over by years of regret,
In order to pick them up.  

Some are forgotten
Others are mistaken for another’s when truly they were my own
Or vis-versa.

And I fight for every bit
Chew my teeth out arguing.

The trail grows cold the further back I fumble
How many times has the tea stain been spent?
How many years should I waste and lament
Actions I have no control over.

At least someone else is happy.
hamishian Sep 2014
This just-in
the weather is turning sour
over fifty buckets (sizzle) filling the once pleasant (static crash)

This just in
an unnamed man is on a spree
in a shopping (click sizzle)
south of new Brighton (static crash)

This just happened
right in front of our eyes,
I could swear, I
wasn't looking (static crash)

This just in
he's under too much rubble
at this stage the rescue effort
looks grim (static crash)

This just in
a su- (hiss) bomber (hiss)
500 people are feared de- (hiss)
many more casualties (static crash)

He was Justin
now he just isn't.
D-vlv 13/18

RIP Justin Williams 1987-2009

— The End —