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She is a cynic, I like to dream.
She’s calm as a current, I try not to gleam.
She prefers black, I prefer white.
I live in the day while she thrives at night.
We’re opposite as two people can be,
But I challenge you to look closer and see,
We both have thoughts profound.
When we’re together we ignore the world around.
We both view in color and we don’t fret.
Because we both love to watch the sunset.
There is no one for me, but my sweet darling, Annabelle Lee.
fifties music
and
Spanish homework
what a combination
time is ticking
and its all quite
an invitation
for my terminal
disease
procrastination
learning is intriguing
but I can hear my friends
calling me
it wont stop ringing !
Saturday afternoons
wanting to go and do
normal teen things
instead I do an overflowing
amount of useless ****
they don't teach me anything
give me a packet for every class
while you play pacman at you desk
wishing you had your adolescence back
sipping nasty black coffee
while we copy each others papers
confusion and boredom
pains us endlessly
will somebody in this *******
nation stand up for our education
and end my selfish procrastination?!
a short period of poorness is already underway when I enter to promise my dog and nod to my wife.  dumb in the mouth I announce I am thinking behind.  my shyness is a chair sent from a distant church.  the one man in the room tells me I have a purpose and confides that he too is a rental.  I’m just here for my unmarried wife who was recently overwhelmed by the human response of our dog.  being that the women are slow to evoke, I’ll have myself know your sons are on a flat surface having a nightmare nightmares notice.
I drew a sketch of
A hangman's noose
On the back of a book
By James Gleick
Then I thought,
Who am I kidding?
And finished the sketch
As Phi
Poetry is
The Soul
Escaping its
Fleshy human
Prison cell
LSD
I feel my pupils,
Dialate,
My legs become,
A nimble stalk of grass
Blowing in the breeze

Everything is ******* awesome,
The hand of God Himself could not bring me down
From this man made chemical high

I struggle to pull a cigarette,
From a freshly opened pack
Because I can't quite feel my finger tips
**** you, Marlboro..

Leaves shake involuntarily,
On the trees before my eyes
The little piece of square paper,
That rests upon my tongue,
Brings me harmony
Oh, will you ever return to me,
My wild first force, will you return
When the old madness comes to
Blacken in me and to burn
Slow in my brain like a slow fire
In a blackened brazier - dull
like a smear of blood,
Humid and hot evil, slow-sweltering
up in a flood!
Oh, will you not come back, my fierce song?
Jubilant and exultant, triumphing over
the huge wrong
of that slow fire of madness that feeds
on me - the slow mad blood
thick with its hate and evil, sweltering
up in its flood!
Oh! will you not purge it from me -
my wild lost flame?
Come and restore me, save me from the
intolerable shame
Of that huge eye that eats into my
Naked body constantly
And has no name,
Gazing upon me from the immense and
Cruel bareness of the sky
That leaves no mercy of concealment
That gives no promise of revealment
And that drives us on forever with its
lidless eye
Across a huge and houseless level of
a planetary vacancy
Oh, wild song and fury, fire and flame,
Lost magic of my youth return, defend
me from this shame!
And Oh! You golden vengeance of bright
song
Not cure but answer to earth's wrong
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