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Jack Aylward Feb 2016
The sleepers
Echoed their nightmares
Into the night
Bringing with them emptiness
And sorrow
Into their everyday lives.

©Jack Aylward
Jack Aylward Feb 2016
I bark at the moon
But no-one has heard me
Not even God.

©Jack Aylward
Jack Aylward Feb 2016
In the dark hours
Of insanity
We howl at the moon.
In quiet desperation
We stab our eyes out
So we can't bear witness
To the crimes
We commit.
We make ourselves deaf
Till our ears bleed
So we can't hear the voices
That tell us to engage in ******.

©Jack Aylward
Jack Aylward Feb 2016
Beauty in a thousand
****** pictures
Of beautiful
Women.
Beauty in a thousand
Miles of your mind.
Beauty in a thousand
Bulging *******
In flimsy low-cut cotton blouses.
Beauty in a thousand
Motion pictures
Of Marilyn Monroe.

©Jack Aylward
Jack Aylward Feb 2016
..... The colour of water?
The colour of the world?
The colour of the wind?
The colour of the air
We breathe?
The colour of your kiss?
The colour of your mind?
The colour of your soul?
The colour of your life?

©Jack Aylward
Jack Aylward Feb 2016
The ******, the gamblers, the killers
And the serial killers,
The psychos, the schizos, the villains.

The streets are *****.
The biggest ****** are in this city.

The streets are full of creeps.
The little shites
Walk up and down under street lights;
Licking the ***** of cheap ******
To whom money is a gun.

Dope dealers are priests.
Prostitutes that walk like wild caged beasts
Parading up and down the red
Light districts
Are desperate nuns looking for fun.

©Jack Aylward
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