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Mar 2010
Crying whilst riding,
On my unicorn themed bicycle,
Past at my back,
Sun absent from the front,
Only the present lays for me.
And that’s why today I tell you,
That yesterday is the only hope,
Our future will succeed,
And Maybe in response,
Or just plain fear,
You say this quite tasty diatribe.

We are all born rotting,
The grave not far off,
In this universe of Trillions,
We are but one.
And you know what else,
We are just an animal,
With the arrogance to presume and assume,
That we are the greatest,
In a sea of fools.
To wonder why we survive and thrive,
While others are put on the wayside.
It’s a pity and it’s a shame,
Its life from within.

So I move slower still,
As I listened to you words,
Each syllable piercing me,
Like the butchers knife on the pig.
But the tears are gone now,
Replaced by blood,
But not my blood or your blood,
But those of innocent ones.
Asking silently ironically,
Who was it that made me this way?

Now Its many years hence and forth,
In this futures hellish morgue.
You sit on the deathbed,
Waiting for one last chance,
But it never comes,
And you never say,
How sorry you were to leave me a bay,
That if you could go back today,
And open your heart to my crying face then,
That perhaps things would be different when,
Our lips locked in heavenly harmony,
And along with our soothed souls,
The angels sighed in ecstasy.

Finally, it snaps back to now,
Like a dream standing still,
Even now we see the death of love,
And the birth of hate.
The diatribe it receeds,
And instead your kisses breathe,
New life into you and me.
Maybe next year death,
And with another kiss the year after,
Cuz life may ****,
But at least we have each other.
- From Birds Flying Into The Eclipse Of Mars
John Ashton Upston
Written by
John Ashton Upston
502
 
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