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Feb 2011
Fingertips bled four days
Vocal chords raw, tattered and ripped
Record collects dust, simply unplayed

Skin rolls through a lathe
reveals a new true color
pinkish, and a little bit softer

Feet broke, and terribly hurting
ankle spurs shard
Can't walk, can't talk
or play my cards play my cards again

Head numbed, complacently dumbed
for a second, spun
out of control, had to run
far far away
to an awful forgotten place
Spoke once, never again


Truer words don't come
to the meek
for they do not speak

unless forced
A struggle to shrug
no one gives them a hug

'Til all is well
heated from beneath
broth boiling in unison
formed once its poison

Next side is bubbling
stirred beyond its coined
phrased unison its poison

If depth makes
for those willing
try sitting try stirring
envy those and transparent osmosis
emit shades out of possible control
Written by
J Colin
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