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Mar 2017
Replete of all its splendor
my withered heart beats...
Such a sad and tortured drum.

Refusing me death
It pumps its useless lifeblood
through my veins

My loneliness leaves me cold.
My desires.... with a frosted skim of ice,
How I long to melt for some unknown spring.

I have love inside!
I have love!!!
Love, no one even pretends to try and see

A poet!! What a joke!!
A dying breed of feelers
left to drown!

Pour me the cheapest drink
flavoured with the acrid taste
of societies disdain!!

I know I'm different
(One of the nicer things
that I've been called)...
It makes those cookie cutter clowns
try and fit me in the smallest box!!
Smaller than the one
where they reside!!

Intellect feeds my mind
yet makes me hungry all the time!
And my soul? Oh my soul!!
Always teaching me to walk a truer path.
Never used to be that way.
Now my ****** internal eye
that's all it ever sees!

My heart?
I do not wish to speak of it.
It beats.
At least it gets to share its time
with my soul.. and eating mind

The night is old...
I turn out the light.
Once again I sleep alone
and wish the empty darkness..
an empty dark good-night.

Roosty
Robert Andrews
Written by
Robert Andrews  55/M
(55/M)   
  807
         H, ---, Pradip Chattopadhyay, Weeping willow, kim and 11 others
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