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  Dec 2015 lluvia de abril
Rai
Enough now
Your tears are scorching my face
Enough said
As we distroy the human race
Enough now
As my heart is open wide
Enough said
When I see the child huddled by your side
Enough now
Of this hatred and pain
Enough said
As our families die this way
Enough now
Lay you down to sleep
Enough said
Karma will be a sweet retreat
  Dec 2015 lluvia de abril
The Dedpoet
Lord,
       God of many names
       I come as a pagan
        So that the right One
       Might hear my moans....

You are not a God that is either
Republican or Democrat,
You are partisan and unheeding
To their propaganda,
You do not need the popular vote,
Nor do you speak lies in speeches.

About the monsters You left in charge....

They speak sweet nothings in Your name
While they rush to cameras when
A thousand die.
They secretly take in the money
For the poor and raise funds
For their bunkers when the
Day of Reckoning comes.
    With their atomic know how
And the fear mongering tactics,
  Tney seek to rule me imperialistic,
They seek to destroy me moralistic.
    
    Will you deliver me from their policies,
   Save me from their budget cuts,
    Confuse their sinister programs?

When the day of final Judgement comes,
Send me an Angel,
Be my refuge from the socialist control,
Keep me safe from their propaganda
Mind alterating political promises,
Save me from their campaign commercials,
      Keep those who seek You
Under your safety and
Bullet proof vests.
lluvia de abril Dec 2015
Oh how I want you to forget
forget that day
and meet me Thursday noon

-our place, room thirty-three-

there again
allow my skin to collapse over your skin
and wrap my final breaths
around your fingertips

Oh how I want to breathe you whole
entirely from within
until your skin becomes my skin

Thursday noon
the inn, room thirty-three
do cause my final breath
I am not afraid
lluvia de abril Dec 2015
It is the hour of always, at this time
you are obvious in my eye
and wispy layers of vivid thoughts
gather in the grace of sentiment
embellishing the sounds of a frail mind
  
It is the hour of always
at this time, I cannot heed a blink’s delay
suspended on the lid  of a solitary thought;
running to your side
  
                                                                ­     A second is three days away
                                                            ­                                    I cannot wait

   I am me in the absence of me
losing ground within your stance
arriving in your arms
drowning slowly in place
I am sound within your hands
I am graceless in the kindness of your gaze.
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