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Clarice Dogood
The Clouds    Hi. I live a very poetic life. I'd like to share that life with you.. I'm not exactly sure that i'm doing this right though..

Poems

Unending chirps, unnoticed cyanide
Black heart's dense, glitters done hide
Puppets followed, inside's purged
Do, done, did, the puppeteer urged

No one noticed the room was painted white
Traces of blood trailed, blinkers worn tight
Equestrian walloped, headed to the light
Ran'n circles, stomach churning feces ****

Capillaries' abnormally dilated, pupils constricted
Rabid looking butterflies like a life wasted
Analogous to a hurriedly headless plight up the stairs
Oro, Plata, Mata! Exactly as ye'were told!

Silence Dogood's publishing's projected worst remorse
Lies not in heavily salvaging a badly rotten core
It's duly accepting and assuming everyone's expendable
Abate in value requires throwing utmost valuables

Create a false fancy essential need then make it scarce
Very baffling to behold an openly transparent farce
Discombobulated-ly simulating the sharp sworded seat
Fictional seat, fantasy world, deluded place-deceit

Looked like a Shakespearean play badly rehearsed
Many a dead soldiers, each a piece not one is bad
Might have to follow Japanese wisdom just like 'twas told
It was always the glorious generals who needs to fold

Monarchs' nightmare stripped of status, influence, and gold
Badly sculpted, looked akin to a gelatin hardened without mold
At that state, stare... Be tranced... Indulge... have a good long look
For if it's null, everyone can deduce what kind of path they took