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Sprouting from a seed of ancient tribal conquest
We are the fruit of empires burnt down
We were tilled by the Cross and harvested in excess
So when our garden went barren we found new fields to plow
Self-righteous and cruel, we strangled the world with our vines
We logged and loaded our African brothers
We slash-and-burned our Native allies
Like weeds, we spread
Watered by a bloody reign
The new times made us like pollen grains
Shuffled by the breeze across the seas
Our spores took root in the muck of a swamp
And the rich southern soil yielded tall family trees
From trappers, to merchants, to sugarcane kings
Our tree’s lengthy limbs bear fruit both ripe and rotten
But yesterday’s crop is stored away when the day is done
Tomorrow’s harvest begins with me, for I am the rising son
I've played the game
as best I can
gone down in burning flames

Cut the cords on parachutes
lost friends and lover's

So here I am
and here I go
once more down the lane

Knowing full damn well
on my way to hell
I'll never be
the same
History is like a record stuck in a groove of our own making ;D
misha 5d
these days
if a man is
caring and
brings his girl
always above
is a luxury

but what
people in
this century
forgot is that
it should be
a standard
all girls are goddesses, embrace yourself and respect yourself and then let someone else do it
Should nimble Muse outspread her wings and fly,
Just wave your hand and to her smile good-bye.
Did you see a tarnished surface
That made you look again
Was it reflected in the lyrics
In the anthem of the Thames

Was the traffic still diverted
Had the knowledge lost good men
Were women dry from crying
At the anthem of the Thames

Did you see the children drowning
Was the tide too high from rain
Were the barges towed in silence
Past the anthem of the Thames

Were the songs drowned out by shouting
Did the words turn boys insane
Did the drum beats beat past midnight
To the anthem of the Thames

Was it echoed through the arches
Did the shadows hide the stains
Did the wounded walk til morning
Through the anthem of the Thames

Will you still be here at day break
Do you claim this grey domain
Will you pray for restoration
Of the anthem of the Thames
The rhythm and structure of this came from some music in a movie, searching for Sugar Man. Once I got to line 4 of the first stanza the rest flowed.  Pardon the pun.
BTW The 'knowledge is a term used to described the exam black cab drivers need to pass to qualify to drive the iconic cab.  Sat nav seems to have replaced that hard won badge.

A hooded figure watches over the sleeping.
Peacefully, suddenly colder, soon to be weeping;
A body of a thousand slumbers.
Tonight will be its final number,
For without sound or any sign of remorse,
Death has come, and in due course,
The time will come when the sleeper breathes no more.
The clock has not yet struck midnight.
Witches are waking their feral beasts and al-
So, their frogs are leaping,
And all the while he lays there sleeping.

His silk pajamas and knitted blankets.
The bottle he was given, he slowly drank it,
And now through snores, he hears no more,
The open door downstairs where footsteps call.
If only he could hear them passing,
Maybe he could somehow foresee the morning happenings,
But this is not a happy ending tale.
This is a time for woe; a rose upon a grail.
A dearly departed letter of discontent.
A scarlet rose has been placed upon his deathbed.

As the clock strikes, a metaphorical piercing knife.
The depths to which some men will delve,
And all in aid of a silent war.
A change in fortune for another who did not fall.
For this assassin was bought and he sold,
His service to another victim old.
For as he stood above his prey,
A bag of monies did come his way,
And with no word, a swift hand grabbed,
The jewels inside the felt covered bag.
All that needed to be said:
“It is not yet my time; send your services back instead.”

Now riches bulged from spoils of war.
The hooded figure waited until he could wait no more,
And on the chime of the seventh call,
The end appeared, a discovery made, the snorer was no more.
Only silence, through such violence.
The hooded figure was never seen again,
But the world had swiftly and suddenly changed.
His services would surely once again be called upon,
Lest his deeds become ineffectual and his tale too soon forgotten.

(C)2018 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Goodbye Bitch (Reprise)

My sweetest angel, you are all that I need.
The only one to ever truly know me.
The only one to take the time to get inside.
The only one in whom I could confide.

So I'm writing to you to simply tell you
Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye.

You broke my heart, when you kissed me goodbye,
And every time I found out, you'd told me a lie
And every day of my life, that you’re not by my side.
I've no more tears left, because I've cried so many times.

So I'm writing to you to simply tell you,
Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye.

Thinking about you makes me breakdown and cry.
Thinking about those times, you kissed me goodbye.
I can't go on anymore, I wish I could die!
You took my heart and soul, now inside I've died.

So I'm writing to you to simply tell you,
Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye.

I was a kid and you were my girl.
Thought we’d grow up and conquer the world.
Always believed that love conquers all;
Immature feelings between a boy and a girl.

Rushing through the years, never taking the time,
To say the words that I simply couldn't find.
To really make you believe,
That we were worth all the trying
And to simply appreciate,
The beauty in your smile.

So I'm writing to you to simply tell you
Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye.

(C)2005 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Once in the blue moon
What if, you can rewrite the history?
He asked

For sure
I'll turn it into a fairy tale
She replied
Genre: Romantic
Theme: Soft words, history without blood shed
Her hair
Like the silk bought from princes,
Delivered on ancient caravans
Sent to bring unknown wonders.

Her eyes
Like the jewels of a queen,
Preserved unblemished for the royals
Envied by the common man.

Her skin
Like velvet robes upon kings,
Worn as complete comfort and softness
Untouchably delicate.

Her lips
Like perfect quartz and ruby,
Crystalline sparkling of pink and red
Kissing with rare perfection.

Her breasts
Like orbs of Delphic temples,
Firm and pure power of seduction
Giving source of life and love.

Like the finest of fine art,
Generations’ legends of beauty,
Unfit for her description.
Instagram @insightshurt
Blogging at www.insightshurt.com
Buy "Insights Hurt: Bringing Healing Thoughts To Life" at store.bookbaby.com/book/insights-hurt
It is okay to hurt
It is okay to fall
like a pile of ashes
to the ground

but my dear

in the morning
you must rise
you must open
your walls again

you must never
give up on you
and above all else
you must remember

it doesn't have to be tomorrow
not even the day after
or the next after that

and you must remember
that these things
take time

it is okay to
open up to people
right away
it is okay
to be cautious
since you have
known this hurt before

but don't let that
stop you from
living beautifully

and it is okay
to fall in love
with hands that are
no longer his

but don't let that
make you afraid
to give your all

and it is okay
for these things
to take time..

your ruins
may leave you
feeling empty

but my dear

there is so much
life left in that
Colosseum crumble
he left abandoned

rebuilding will come
but please remember

           -Rome wasn't built in a day
waiting is agony but one day we'll be okay again. This is a process and that's okay.
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