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SøułSurvivør
Poems
Jun 2016
derelict temple
you stand in line
for liquid bread
with your thin dime
newspaper matress
you lick your lips
a cardboard box
will.be your crypt
sad
forsaken
so forlorn
your façade is *****
tattered
worn
the gold was stolen
from your vaults
passersby see only faults
the picket fence
around your heath
is as broken
as your teeth
the many choices
you have made
have sunk you to
an early grave
you're self-abusive
destruction bent
your temple is a
TENEMENT
**
SoulSurvivor
(C) 6/17/2016
You can lend people a hand.
But they have to want to take it.
#addiction
#life
#death
#struggle
#derelict
#alcoholics
Written by
SøułSurvivør
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