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Under a violet moon,
In the darkness of night,
Demons fright,
******'s delight,
Innocent's plight,
In the darkness of night,
Under a violet moon.
If dreaming is just
The way for me to see you
Then don’t wake me up
Bad men around the world, like to prey on little girls
he says everything will be alright
he takes me away
out of sight.
 Oct 2015 Matthew Rousseau
Riya
“Give me a reason to live” He said,
staring into the abyss that moaned his name.
“I can give you a thousand” I said
Grabbing a hold of his hand in an attempt
to ****** the satisfaction oblivion will gain.

The feel of your lips against my skin
Burning my flesh,
Lingering.
Your fingers raking through my hair,
Pulling and claiming what’s rightfully
Yours.

The way my fingers fit
So Perfectly in between yours.
The way our hands move,
Creating a Play with mere shadows.
Our moans
Groans,
Shouts,
Screams…
The way they are mere instruments
In creating a beautiful, sweaty symphony.

Darling, if not for me,
Or our memories,
Live for yourself,
Live to create new memories,
New favourites.
Live to be something,
Someone,
Forget thousands of reasons,
Baby,
You just need one.
~~
The soft chill winds
a cloudy day
ah! what a feeling!
drifting with the streams
how the life instills!

Waves of song coming from the distant
white Storks flying as the fall guy  
how the dreams come and go
between you and me
between the land and sea

In the sky rafts of white clouds
crafts the arrival of autumn
assuming the flame of Love
what a beautiful play!
what a fairs of tune!
~~
###
An Autumn Song
##
Praise for all who have taken to the sky,
Given another existence a go,
Believing only in those who TRY.
Praise for all who long to conquer
foreign lands, embracing the other.
Learning to RESPECT both major and minor.
Devising new rules, a pastiche of history.
Praise for all who seek to do more,
then ponder, longingly by the bay.
Those who dive, unafraid, into deeper waters,
Seabed nutrients paving the WAY.
Praise for all of the daily routines,
The bricks that build our paths,
The bristles that brush our teeth,
The caffeine that wakes us in mornings,
The pillows gently aiding our sleep.
Praise for all who embrace it,
That hope making futures seem bright,
Mixing primary colours,
Creating their own special LIGHT.
Praise for all who can switch,
Between feelings, careers, space.
Warning signs only act as directions,
Not evidence of an unavoidable FATE.
Praise for all those who let go,
There are times when you must close the door.
Forever is never a given,
If it's a struggle to love anymore.
Praise for all who have found them,
That ONE we all long to meet.
The lucky position of few,
The masses admitting defeat.
Fluffy *****
No stress, no care
Cutie-patootie
Koala Bear
Marsupial justice
Gypsy died on a date unknown.
We found her surrounded by moldy food, in her apartment, alone.

My grandmother who prayed for Jesus to be in my heart,
Lay lifeless on the couch,
falling apart.

Dad was in rehab and we gave him a call
Sitting In the hallway up against the wall.

He answered and said, "I'm doing so good! Never been better, like I knew I would!"

The news of his mothers death, with him being so far away,
Caused him to drop the phone and start screaming in pain.
"Oh god, no this can't be true"
He wasn't even there to pay his dues.

I Flipped through Polaroids she kept in a box,
Surrounded by people, all worried and lost.

Gypsy and I would play in the backyard,
She had red hair and a golden heart.

We filled endless bags with her crosses and bibles,
All smoking cigarettes and talking for a while.

They took her away in a hearse,
As I rummaged through all the junk in her purse,
Letters and donations to be sent out to churches,
all left without stamps, empty and worthless.

I called her gypsy because she was as free as the wind,
The crazy make-up lady who would laugh to no end.

Nobody wanted answers as to why she died,
She was laid to rest on Christmas Eve, the closest to Jesus she'd ever been in her life.

I hope now gypsy is finally alright.
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