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I dislodge the remnants of stars
The remains of brilliant men before me
The as yet unrecognized cure for cancer
Riddles only the deceased can answer* ...
Copyright September 22 , 2016 by Randolph L Wilson * All Rights Reserved
 Sep 2016 Hurble B Burble
Matt
Hello
 Sep 2016 Hurble B Burble
Matt
People across the globe
Are enjoying my poetry

Well that is really
Something else

Maybe just a few
But that is exciting to me

I see people
I hear sounds
But these people
Don't talk to me

Where are they going?
And what are they doing?
Who knows

Some have work
In the morning

While others will stay
Up late
For a hot and steamy
Night of college ***

Good to know
That that turkey wrap
Can be relied upon

Quality turkey
And spinach

Nigel the dog
Has his own twitter

He is owned by Monty Don
British television presenter
Writer and speaker
On horticulture

I jump from one thought
To the next

The ideas have
No connection

Just as a day
Is remembered
In small segments

Random
And usually disconnected
 Sep 2016 Hurble B Burble
Corvus
It's hard to be a coward and suicidal,
Afraid of pain and overly-sensitive to guilt simultaneously.
Never wanted to jump from a building,
Because regretting your decision halfway down must be a nightmare.
Must only take a few seconds.
Must feel like longer than you've ever lived.
Didn't want to jump in front of a bus,
Because that seems wildly ineffective.
Didn't want to lie on train tracks;
I know those videos of dismembered people end up
On the darkest places of the Internet,
And I'm nothing if I'm not embarrassed by attention.
Didn't want to hang myself, had enough hospital trips
From asthma attacks rendering me breathless to want to relive it.
Tried to hang myself.
Wasn't as bad as I thought it'd be.
Didn't want to overdose on pills
Because I have an aversion to swallowing them.
Realised the only reason you aren't supposed to chew them
Is so you don't overdose.
Tried to overdose.
Woke up confused and frightened with an apparently not-killer headache.
But that was back then, and this is now.
I don't look at things and see invitations of death anymore.
There's no temptation to analyse them
And see if they're up for the job.
I'm less on the aggressive side of the spectrum,
Swaying, instead, a lot more to being passive.
I don't want to dive in front of traffic,
But I don't always look before I cross the road either.
And I could still end up in the same coffin as if I'd jumped,
But for me, there's a lifetime of difference.
I don't really consider this to be a sad/hopeless poem, but it is a blunt poem. Sometimes you need to set your darkness free.
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