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We wanted to confess our sins but there were no takers.
White clouds refused to accept them, and the wind
Was too busy visiting sea after sea.
We did not succeed in interesting the animals.
Dogs, disappointed, expected an order,
A cat, as always immoral, was falling asleep.
A person seemingly very close
Did not care to hear of things long past.
Conversations with friends over ***** or coffee
Ought not be prolonged beyond the first sign of boredom.
It would be humiliating to pay by the hour
A man with a diploma, just for listening.
Churches. Perhaps churches. But to confess there what?
That we used to see ourselves as handsome and noble
Yet later in our place an ugly toad
Half-opens its thick eyelid
And one sees clearly: "That's me."
.    I fell and scattered, shattered
into a thousand pieces
across the room,
and laid, waiting
     for someone to put me back together.

No one came, but it’s all the same:
     Mended or not
     I’m now cracked
     and incapable
of holding anything inside.
If I told you I dropped out of college
would you assume that I lack knowledge?
Or would you look into the window,
being my brain.
What if inside you saw pain?

See it's funny because my whole life
I looked outside of the window at the world
I looked at the young and the old
I looked at the boys and the girls
I looked at the men and women
and in all of those people
I saw dreamers.

When I pulled my head back in,
I took a look at myself
I asked, "What are my dreams?"
and I wrote these poems.
Some show me good; some show me bad
Some show me happy; some show me sad.

The greatest part
is that my brave heart
continues hoping
and leaves that window open

The worst part
is when my hurt heart
wants to be left alone
and I keep the window closed.
 Mar 2012 Hersch Rothmel
Thin as piper
Was your whisper
The chill from a passing ghost
Someone just
Stepped on your grave
And hung a black cat crossed the street
Stepping ******* the cracks
Spilling salt

They say its bad luck to break a mirror
And even worse to be reflected
In the shattered remains

They say don't sleep with your feet sticking out from
Under a blanket
Because demons with
Skeleton hands
Will reach right up and take you

That's why I let sleeping dogs lie
Why I never **** pointing east
And don't you dare smoke one cigarette
Before flipping the pack
Inspired by a friend who explained that buying white bic lighters is bad luck

— The End —