What Does It Take, To Shake God's Hand?

david-hilburn Poems

Sour "humanity" Accredit me with the hand of ought Spoken treatise, to decency is a vanity Wide eyes and special kisses, for the man who can understand lot Speed in a city, waiting on creed To tell it's story, a wish in the name of virtue Long before variety is a wish to burn, charity of seed? What is a king to be, if no lip of truth, is a choice crude? Carried infants sware at a sweaty ghost... Liberty in a handsomer hair, is to be a rise in altruism let... A shapely few to significance, is a wish that stole a home for a host... A view of meagerness so mandatory, for a salt between the mercy we met... In a care called promises, a hap of duty to wear thin... Can a harping smile, save you from a sultry sunlight? Sweet unction, sweeter function, of a callous lip to win... The taste of when we are so famed in the future; is water wet? Is anger better... At a kiss than a shadow of **** we make from the youth Of a notorious skew, of waiting heaven's, that begin to stick to the letter Of God's suicide, in front of you, and the angel's of couth? Salt, pepper and pop... Given the gambling of vice, a vertigo of staring simplicity Can a humane doldrum, survive itself, for a wishy-washy stop To God's kisses, when all you have is a road to sincerity and heed?