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Shirley May 2013
I was standing there

In the heart of crossroads

Blindly staring at the unfamiliar road signs



Traffic lights must have misheard my wheeze

They shifted before I could breathe

Inexorable headlights race towards the freezing me

As if magnet and metal were meant to be



I am here, facing back

Tracing the road I wanted to wrack

With thought of facing the crack

Measuring the weight to repack



Memories of morning sun heating away the haze

Passion of youth in this town had become blase

Fleeting replays of ugly truths in these old days

So I stepped out the lies builded with ablaze  



I will be moving, starting from here

By the side of crossroads

Slowly walking away from these rusty road signs
Shirley May 2013
so much depends
upon
a dark silence
library
with soul’s of
writers
buried by ages,
times
Shirley May 2013
I love that novel,
like an angel loves to smile
I said I love that novel
like angel loves to smile Love to open it in the midnight
love to whisper to it
“Let’s read, awhile!”
Shirley May 2013
There was a boy sitting in the bar
Planning one day to be a rock star
He ordered pink milk
And then he started to bilk
Running on the road and hit by a car
Shirley May 2013
Poor Shirley sat quietly blinking
These poems have got me to thinking
I can’t find a word
That isn’t absurd
My tries at poems are stinking

— The End —