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They rode at night in robes of white burning crosses held on high
They had taken the vote and decided
On this night Silas had to die
Who were these men who rode that night
What were they in the day
One a county judge another owned a ranch
These some of the heroes who would hang Silas from a branch
What then was the crime that old Silas had committed
Simple, he went into town, went into the local store
But Silas crossed the line when he passed through the white mans door
So they ripped old Silas from his bed and hung him from a limb
And as his life left him one even sang a pious hym
Would it ever be investigated by the local law
No!!! Because old Silas he was coloured trash, his wife a coloured *****
 Aug 2014 James Sebastian
Olivia
You painted
a sunset in the back of my
throat, so that every time
we kissed, you could taste
something beautiful that
wasn't me.
Be my morning coffee.
Pull me out from under the covers and burn on the way down.
Two sugars.
Put a spring in my step and twitch in my fingers.
Be my afternoon cigarette.
Be my long awaited break from reality
Light my eyes as I take each drag of you and keep me warm.
Stay on my lips and let me inhale every last bit of you.
Be my nightly sleeping pill
Envelope me in your grasp and take me elsewhere.
End my tossing and turning and plant dreams in my head so real I can taste them.
Until morning
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