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Sep 2014
Empty seats from me across; I sigh not, nor count it loss
But the drop of liquor and memory bits
Pieced together, but still a myth.

I question to the coffee light just why and what
Holds violence behind a wall of height?
Exactly how can he show his face around here?

Contrition is stretching unapologetically
For does it, too, know my fantasy
Or that I am vague to its reality?

Act or no, this marked giant infantile,
Acts on this, on me, my quintessence
As it's years from adolescence

A sigh, a sigh—my trick to think it good enough—
Peppered to my private ones an audience of extremes
Mirror use,

But if I speak would they care to know?
Hot coffee burns at it goes down
Have I faced a punishment fit yet, now?

Tight-lipped utterances and across town
They should feel the coals alight, powerful.
My better sense—my heart now, too—

Tell me this is not , nor ever true
Forgive me please if I have a few
Forgive me no, never, oh!

Feel fate on me when I come
Red-eyed and gritted teeth, meaning well
Father, forgive, though God’s not here

For more than mine, shed hath tear
Leave me to my silence, pay penance will I here
And in maddened eyes I avert

Just know in time (to that uncertain) that I
That I will rectify—invoke Holy Mary to this,
My heathen heart.
Written by
JP Goss
670
   SPT and Tark Wain
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