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This poem has no title
To mark out it's course
Comes naked, unbridled
In both rhyme and verse
A climatic endeavor
Will place it on high
To make it wherever
Its footing it finds

This poem with no title
Does not mix its words
No reason to rival
Where clearly it blurs
This poem in the making
To fill in each line
This poem with no title
Does just what it might
 Sep 2014 Rachel Cloud
Triiniity
We all die
it's just a matter                    
of who remembers
 Sep 2014 Rachel Cloud
Lexie
Chalk
 Sep 2014 Rachel Cloud
Lexie
the day it rained all the chalk on the sidewalk washed away,
the sun came and dried an utterly blank canvas
 Sep 2014 Rachel Cloud
Lone Wolf
Hello... hello... hello...
Is there anybody in there?
I feel trapped
And unable to nod
To indicate my being
And no, I can't hear you
I'm too
well I can ease your pain
Get you on your feet again
Too lost
In my mind
To stop my own pain
ill need some information, first
Just the basic facts,
Can you show me where it hurts?
My mind
And heart
Are being torn away from each-other
And becoming separate entities
With different wants
Just a little pinprick.
There'll be no more,
Ahhhhhhhhhhhh
But you may feel a little sick.*
Can't feel worse than now
I'm sick already
And dying inside
Rotting inside my own mind
can you stand up, stand up,
I do believe it's working, good.
That'll keep you going through the show
Come on it's time to go.

Temporary reliefs
From my cryptic beliefs
On death
And how close I am
Dead enough to be decaying
There is no pain you are receding
A distant ship, smoke on the horizon.
You are only coming through in waves.
Your lips move but I can't hear what you're saying.
When I was a child
I caught a fleeting glimpse

Of happiness
And what life could be
A merry me
And cheerful world
In that moment
I saw peace
I turned to look but it was gone
I cannot put my finger on it now
The child is grown,
The dream is gone.

But, I can be content
With temporay relief
*I have become comfortably numb....
Anything in italics is quotes from pink Floyd, comfortably numb
I hope this smile on my face
doesn’t give you the illusion that everything
is okay.

It couldn’t be worse.

and what kills me the most
is that you don’t see me hurt.

and you believe that leaving
is gonna help me cope.
As frantically
As he ran
He could not escape,
No matter
How many branches
Ducked
Or logs
Jumped
He was doomed..
For the dark presence...
Always...
Loomed...
Broken wing.

For one\ to fly \with bro\ken wing-
The strug/gle and/ the stol/en fight--
The sound \ of fear \ in tone \ they sing-
The dead/ of dawn/ and sil/lent light--
Of all /the right/ and word/ they spill-

Of shat/tered speak/ and lone/ly thought--
The dead/ly breath/ and rust/ed wraught--
All dust/ to dust/ and blood/ to boil-
Break bread/ and tile/ defy/ the toil-
All work/ is use/less in/ the end--
The words/ are those/ to not / contend--

Broken busted battered brain/
Dusty deadly destructive drain/
Mashed mattered molding mane/
Replenished ruined royal reign/

Defying complicity in notion,
Rapture from the droning motion,
Blasphemy in daily dream,
Politics of moonlight gleam,
Corruption in the tortured tone,
Crawling fear with broken bone...
--Jacob Coffey--
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