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Kathryn Chapman Nov 2013
dance and twirl and flail around

who cares if we look like silly clowns

knocking shelves and breaking hearts

drinking a bottle of whiskey and throwing darts

straight at brains and thoughts and love

taking the life of the pretty white dove

we run rampant like rabbits

making bad habits

destroying the world that raised us well

ignoring the cries the screams the yells

slaying the ones who love us most

and over drinks we proudly boast

then we grow up and graduate and then

some of us stay and some become men

those who remain lost and alone

allow their hearts to turn to stone

they die with tears and fears and frowns

but ****, it's fun to stay a clown
Kathryn Chapman Nov 2013
the names of my past
engraved so deeply into my thighs

the men who kissed them
now scripted in permanence
next to their fallen comrades

— The End —