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032016

Hello Poetry, will you hear my cry?
Can you put my cup into your table of mystery?
Or simply leave out the rest of the words?
Like the stitches you pushed me to wear
Whenever I mix the sugar in pain.

Hello Poetry, will you marry me?
Can you count the uncounted stars
And remain in silence whenever we kiss in the rain?
Will you pour out the wine and give me cheers?

Hello Poetry, will you be my Superman?
Who'll catch me when I fall to the pit of your romantic stanzas?
Or hang me up until you see me in tears of the ocean so deep.

Hello Poetry, will you shoot me in my weakness?
And wrap me up and sing me a song so delicate to my ears.
Will you teach me to punch curiosity of the world's psychopaths?
And tear up my bones until I pursue my calling.

Hello Poetry, will you answer me?
See how crazy I am, wandering in the desert of your magic.
Or is it an aroma of how you allure me to your depth?

I was captivated by you, coz over and over again
I hover into your words, that I became a lover --
A lover of speech and intent;
Of your soul so determined
To push me into the limits of my vocabulary.

I am in love.
I love you, Poetry.
I am your Poet.
IU
I cuddle your teddy
You cuddle mine

I sleep in your top
You sleep in mine

I have your heart
**You have mine
I have you
You have me **
Tommy Jackson Mar 2016
We make truths, we make lies
Sleep with stories of wonder why's
We make money to make a living
We make sorrow for someone's giving
We make happiness, we create anger
Robots and destroyers of foes and nature
We make enemies, even we ourselves are one
We shoot pistols, stab with knives, we want fun
We make our living trying to make due
Life throws us burdens to face the day new
We are the choosers of our own free wills
We choose to give life or take it, we make our own thrills
We get our own fills from uneducated stupid boxes
TVs that are ran by fleas, step in politics
Call it daily proxy.
We are human, we are far from perfect
We are human
We are......   ......  .................. ...............
We lost our humanity, we've become animals.
We lost.
Barbecue is blowing in the breeze , the city of Jackson is "rolling up the streets " ..The old soldier guards the city square , thoughts turn to Saturday night , stripers at the lake and the devil-may-care ..
Shady southern avenues and picnics at Indian Springs , lazy Sunday afternoons and playful children on dead end streets* ...
Copyright March 17 , 2016 by Randolph L Wilson * All Rights Reserved

Jackson , Ga.
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