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Knock Knock at your door I'm here today to give you more Hard I come to the core My in and out may leave you sore Words I pile to make you smile Moments of magic keept on file Expression of thought done with style Write poems that rhyme I go extra mile Good vibrations sent out each day Many a reason why I walk this way Inner child comes out to play Can't see the wind yet trees still sway Knock Knock please let me in In eye of the beholder lives the sin Justice blind create the spin From foundation of loss we build the win Open doors endless halls No more doubt bring down the walls Take a stand pick up those who fall Tap into greatness within us all.
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Dec 22, 2015
Dec 22, 2015 at 4:55 PM UTC
Knock Knock
The other night you said You could never love like this again Your stare piercing each vessel As it squired uncomfortably Underneath my skin Everybody knows Just exactly what it is I did There’s no holds barred, now and I plan to go down with my sin She holds her breath Praying she doesn’t see her again It’s own sick form of torment To the transgressor and the transgressed Every time a car rolls by “Has she come to take you, is the time here yet?” For her it isn’t if, it’s when I gave away what was not mine to squander and You’ll call me a liar, worse yet but For every shred Of evidence I left I too left the key for your vengeance and I hope you’ll wield your weapon wisely For this shot, Its the last one I’ve got So I ram the rod down the shaft Compressing the powder Lick my fingers clean Of the filth I’ve wallowed in I’d shed a tear, but what’s left is a monster The girl I was, she won’t come back to haunt you She’s given up too much hope for that
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Feb 26, 2016
Feb 26, 2016 at 7:17 AM UTC
Ram The Rod (2015)
“This’ll be her last winter” My father says in a Soft sort of way The same words I’ve heard him say Countless times before He always had an understanding Of life and death and A quiet acceptance of both As we drove the road sides Were littered with bodies and snow Corpses waiting until spring To decompose He’ll never worry again About being the last one left The people mill about as if Nothing’s changed at all but He can’t stop looking at The place where she used to sit and It hasn’t quite sunk in yet That she’s gone, forever He’ll never see her again She’s never coming back and He can’t shake the feeling that He no longer belongs in this place He can’t move on and he Can’t go home Because she is dead She is dead and he’s He is the one that remains This was her last winter and she Nearly made it through He holds his tea between his fingers and Looks at me as he whispers, “This’ll be my last, too.”
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Feb 17, 2016
Feb 17, 2016 at 7:55 AM UTC
Her Last Winter (2016)
When I saw that the black had permeated Every last vein, nail, and hair and That it finally stopped to rest Deep inside me, somewhere I pulled out my best knife and I rolled up my sleeves Without thinking, I tore open the skin and What I found wasn’t regret, but relief I watched as one by one They milled about and then out of the room They stopped to peer inside the box Before they left, they each caught A glimpse of the beast that Loomed underneath No one dared to touch the thing The oddity that had become me So I guess they wouldn’t have known I was harmless back then I wasn’t a monster yet I guess it doesn’t matter now Like everything else, it’s water under the bridge
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Feb 17, 2016
Feb 17, 2016 at 7:46 AM UTC
Monster (2016)
It was November in Houston I remember because the leaves Were crunching under my feet and The air had this stagnant, hot feeling but The breeze was cool and Soothing to me Just cool enough for long sleeves She lived just up the street I had a place to park my car and put my things She was a piece of work, to put it lightly Better it be her than me I was a monster back then but I didn’t know it yet Sometimes ignorance Has a kinder effect Amazing the things that stick to us as we grow Things burrowed so deep that we don’t even know She wanted so badly To believe that she loved me That what we had was Something of meaning She took me to a psychic, A palm reader In hopes she could fix things Instead I did coke in their picturesque bathroom and Met you in the car after my fix Thinking about it now makes me sick but Like you always say, “It is what it is” That was a decade ago Almost a lifetime Another person ago A different time in my life I’ve closed the door and In my mind I’ve left the mirror girl behind I watched her face pale As she stepped back into the mist Then she slipped into the darkness, Irretrievable and The part that wants to drive This whole mess into the canyon Drew great satisfaction From my demise Her eyes faded to black and It seemed almost familiar I can almost put my finger on it I guess either way, though I’d prefer the ladder
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Feb 17, 2016
Feb 17, 2016 at 7:43 AM UTC
Writing On Walls (2015)