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Leroy J Harris Mar 2014
In the skull, light dwells.
Outside all is darkness.
A cloak that keeps them warm.
I shiver despite the heat.
A man smiles towards me.
I cannot see his face.
Leroy J Harris Mar 2014
Too many beg.
Too many want and desire.
To hold a place beside the fire.
More of an observation than anything.
Leroy J Harris Mar 2014
Bathe me in armor, bright as light.
Throw me into darkness, cold as regret.
Revel in triumph, you have won.
Shed not a tear, it must be done.
Who wins? Again really old piece.
Leroy J Harris Mar 2014
Relinquish ownership, the ring is flawed, unworthy.
Pass it on to that lesser man, it suits him well.
May it weigh him down, like all your baubles.
Useless trinkets, adorning your weary hands.
Testament to your folly, decisions better unmade.
They look back at you, your gaze is welcomed.
Revealing your true self, you like not what you see.
Your ugliness, the filth that fills you, is now somewhat concealed.
from the eyes that judge, the people who enable your greed.
they now view you more, as something they need.
Really really old poem.
Leroy J Harris Mar 2014
Happy Happy Happy
Sad       Sad      Sad
Why are you?
Why are you?
Don't be soo mad!
Not sure what I was thinking but its kinda catchy.
Leroy J Harris Mar 2014
Everyone hears it,
Briefly before it all crumbles away.
Wet and dripping I retrieved.
Life from death with a hurried flicker.
I'm cursed with this perverted trick.
I can't bare to look at myself or it.
One side snickers at me through steel lips.
The other sings at me with an open mouth.
I see moths congregating above.
Will it swallow their light?
This happens at night near a lighted torch mounted on a wall, or near a mirror inside a building with insects including moths trying to get inside. Matthew is still alive.
Leroy J Harris Mar 2014
A divergence set us apart.
Matthew's hold loosened until.
He wasn't there anymore.
The crashing disturbance above.
Alerted me to the presence far too late.
A masked face with oval eyes.
Set on my vulnerabilities.
Came crashing down bathed in leaves.
Before reflex could oust me from capture.
His hands were there.
But my voice was not.
Just an errant whim wandering the halls of my cavernous mind.
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