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Helen
Poems
Mar 2014
I roflmao until I broke my back on a chair
I didn't see it there!
the kitchen chair
You hit me in the living room
where there was so much space
a solid lounge
a coffee table made from oak
a television cabinet
protecting life's assets
but you hurled me
into the kitchen
with just one stroke
and I rolled laughing
until I hit the chair
that splintered fine pieces
of rough hewn stakes
into the air
that fell around me
like a cage
I didn't want to escape
but when a spine is broken
the only sound to make
is
a
sigh
It was a nice day to die
Written by
Helen
nowhere special
(nowhere special)
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William A Poppen
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