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David Hilburn Apr 13
Avid, due is
A host of what most
A role of fate, to live like sates bliss
When the world collides, with home pie

Turn the entertainment on?
So weighted an argument, for you to be
A gainly season of truth, that some describe wrong
Like a babbling babe, we turn chaste into a miracle to lead

Shapes of timidity, to come
Sware at a thumb, or drink a beer...
The times are a foreign ship, with bells at the helm
With an approaching iceberg, that has shared your...

Daring a little more, asking sauce?
Escaping the temper of God, in a lifeboat?
Sweating the difference between us, and a hairy ****?
Is it all right to dance here, when silence has been overcome more?

Then you, the ship is your future, in the new?
Step into the light, or recede in the dark
Your sneezes predict a shall's conversation, with a cunning who?
Like love to light us a cigarette, we have the sea to hark...

A ruined shadow of a chance, with a special on suicide?
Money or insurance, your place is with me...
Mutual assurance in the now, with a particular habit of life
Something cheery, with soapy eyes and a shyness of meant we're
now ask the boys' choir, if **** can sing...
lillium May 2019
glasses raised high upon your dream
that clashes and clink between nightmares and pretty things

you’re afraid of the noises that they make
so you shut the door, and leave them in the hallway
birds chirping and voice echoing your head

choirs singing songs you don’t admire anymore
rhythm that fades as you steady your step

‘this is what you have to do’
you knitted your fingers as they tangled your hair
very cautious as you held someone else’s hand

once more you tell yourself
‘this is what I have to do’
I have to let go of my perched
that bleeds cosmos when it’s midnight
and the mess of outlining colour when the day meets the end

I have to let go of my old self
and the ones I desperately wished to come back
I have to let go of my worry
and self consciousness when it comes to a hopeless story

I have to let him go.
G Rog Rogers Oct 2017
If all the beauty of existence
were put within a song
Would it not be
the heart of woman
for it then
to be written upon?

Then all the choirs of Heaven
would sing as one

I might then hear the beauty
of the chorus as they sing
And marvel in amazement
from the deepest darkness
of this lowest place I'm in

So never quiet
an hymn of sorrow
nor despise the tears of joy
For those who
from the darkness
yet remember how wonderful life was

Memories awaken
and hope is again reborn
At that melodious
first moment
of a woman's heartfelt song

Hers is in the singing
as life is once
more renewed
Hers is in the song
as is the Heavens
eternal truth

Yes if all the beauty
of existence
were put within a song
Would it not be
the heart of woman
for it then to be written upon?

-R.

11.22.12
-SC
©ASGP
G Rog Rogers Aug 2017
If all the beauty of existence
were put within a song
Would it not be
the heart of woman
for it then
to be written upon?

Then all the choirs of Heaven
would sing as one

I might then hear the beauty
of the chorus as they sing
And marvel in amazement
from the deepest darkness
of this lowest place I'm in

So never quiet
an hymn of sorrow
nor despise the tears of joy
For those who
from the darkness
yet remember how wonderful life was

Memories awaken
and hope is again reborn
At that melodious
first moment
of a woman's heartfelt song

Hers is in the singing
as life is once
more renewed
Hers is in the song
as is the Heavens
eternal truth

Yes if all the beauty
of existence
were put within a song
Would it not be
the heart of woman
for it then to be written upon?

-R.

11.22.12
-SC
©2017

— The End —