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Let loose ****** upon the heavens

to pluck out the stars
blinding the earth

Make carrion of its promises
as now they rend the night
with
bloodied talons

screeching profanities in blasphemous acts

let the world beware the coming
of my darkness

for I am death
******-crows
Writer's block
does not exist
if you are a writer
then you can always write
and you always will write
writer's block
is just a convenient excuse
for when you are too lazy,
defeated,
preoccupied,
sad,
and you know what?
when all of that is coming down on you
all you need to do
is take a deep breath
shut up
and write
Every night before I sleep
I touch a picture on my way
A picture of two people
Who I've not met to this day
They watch my every waking move
I know they follow me around
I try to justify my life to them
In response, they make no sound
They raised a daughter...Megan
She is the most important thing to me
The picture is her parents
Her dad's been gone since she was three
I feel them sometimes, watching
I hope they look on her with pride
I know that I will meet them
When I reach the other side
The product of their union
Makes me proud she is my wife
I thank them on my way to bed
For it was them that gave her life
I know I would have liked them
And I hope they feel the same
I know their time here was a short one
But, I'm awful glad they came
Charlie and Margaret Edwards
I'm sure you'll let me know
If I cross the line a smidgen
And if across the line I go
I know you both are watching
so there's one thing I must do
I love your daughter Megan
I just want to say "Thank You"
The Angel with the jet black hair,
She seems as though by being present she is stirs the air.
The Angel with the shiny dark eyes,
She seems as though by being plainly looking she freezes you.
The Angel with the skin smooth as cheese,
She seems as though by being so soft that nobody dared touch her.
The Angel with the sweetest of names,
She is you, she is you, she is you, no one else but yes she is you.
Though there are other angels too,
But this poem was written for you.

For this particular image in my mind,
By your youth it was inspired.
All is inspired by you in the end, in one way or another my Creepy Angel ;)
Your Expectant,
© Atul Kaushal
My Old Soul Is Trapped In A Body Too Young
My Fists Clench The Throat Of Anger,
My Knuckles Turning A Ghostly White,
They Chuckle At The Sight Of Them,
They Laugh At Their Native Tounge,
They Speak When They Have No Right,
They Break Hearts When They Have No Say,
They Steal Amition With Their Stares,
They Crush Courage With Their Glares,
They Are Nothing More Then Lessers Themselves
I Don't Care Who You Are.. If You're Racist You Deserve A Good Slap In The Face!

Her: So I Found This Somalian's Papers In The Bathroom Talking About How She Was So Upset That People Are Mean To Her Cuz She's Somalian So I Tore It Up And Threw It In The Sink. Stupid Somalis.
Me: Wow You're Not Racist At All.
Her: I Am Very Racist
Me: And You're Proud Of That?
Her: Yes... Yes, I Am

How Can The World Stand To Harbor This Hate For So Long....
Sometimes

It

Really

Offends

Me

That

I

Am

A

Human

Being
Just Expressing My Anger
If wishes were horses
and hopes were fens
they our dreams would lead us
or heathered glens

if wishes were horses
and promises sand
then our dreams would show us
anothers sweet land
The first line was something they said to me
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