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 Apr 2016 Kristo Frost
Traveler
Post for me
A loveless poem
In the key forgotten
And forever alone
In a cadence of disaster
Innocence expunged
Post for me your
Most Dejected one

Post for me
A loveless poem
All your darkness
Carved in stone
Broadcast live
The sins denied
From the dark place
Where you hide

Let loose now
Your nobody knows
Your most shameless roll
Your damaged soul
Post for me
Your loveless poem
I swear to you
I'll forgive us both...
life is changing,
i can feel it
in the movement
of the earth
its quakes its shifts
throwing me every way
but where i will land
i cannot say

life is changing,
i can hear it.
a new bell tolls
not for this new day
but for every tomorrow
as they roll onward
tumultuous,
loud.

life is changing,
i can see it.
the light from yesterday
shines brighter
and lights more.
it is vibrant,
and illuminates all i can see

life is changing.
i can not listen
to the same old sad songs
the ones that used to
resonate within me.
a new song is there.
filling me with hope,
beauty, and faith.

i know life is changing;
the sun has finally risen.
 Apr 2016 Kristo Frost
Tea
I lost myself today
Have you maybe seen me?
I got lost in the crowd of
who they want me to be

I lay awake in bed
Perhaps I'll start to feel
Dreams are all I have
to know that I'm still real

A spear blows through my chest
Again I start to fall
I scream for help once more
But no one hears my call

Where do I go now
that I'm behind this wall?
Everyone I trust
leaves me lost after all

The walls are closing in
My chains cut deeper still
The echoes start to scream
They go in for the ****

The voices seem to say
"The truth will set you free"
The only one to save myself
has always been me

If I could go back now
and carry what I've learned
I'd find myself again
to try and stop the hurt.
"What have I become?
My sweetest friend
Everyone I know
goes away in the end"

my sort of tribute to the wonderfully heart wrenching "Hurt"
been awhile
but no matter,
boots look best
when resting
on legs extended
on a summer's afternoon
looking down on
water boats, dogs by the side,
your sleepy hollow in
my appreciative heart

for I know there is soul
in brevity,
and that ain't exactly
my finest quality

but you sir,
archival historian
of moments of man's choices,
and with noisy metal detector,
reflect on the belts and buckles uncovered
from long ago wars by which you
capture my devoted attention

they say the north won the war,
by amassing more and more
and wearing down their brothers
but I know different

r
you listening,
to you I accede,
to your fewer words,
join in happy secession,
and see us all through
with your briefs on the
human condition
I push the needle through the cloud and hit rock bottom
pull back on the plunger and inhale the fumes wondering
how pure this streak is when I push my thoughts together
saying "how long does it take to form a habit" one day you
wake up in the bathtub with a lighter in one hand the other
hand turning into a tree putting down roots into the porcelain
and coughing up blood trying to talk to your lungs but failing
and missing the vein, I'll try again this time staining the syringe
with type A and push down on the plunger to chase my own
shadow away down the alley

Where it wonders if I talk in my sleep
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