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 Jun 2013 tread
DieingEmbers
See the king in his cardboard castle
beneath his bridge of broken dreams
by the river of remorsefulness
that like the voices nightly screams
There's a beer can full of memories
and a burger full of death
and the things he thought he'd ougth to say
dangling from his breath
theirs stains upon his royal garb
that show just where he's been
and an emptiness within his eyes
that hide the things he's seen
his queen lies in her carriage
amongst her treasure so
and he wheels her round the city
when the lamp lights softly glow
Nobody ever sees them
nobody even cares
for the royals in their boxes
watching operas without airs
spare them not a second thought
as if you even would
for they have found each other
and a palace by the wood
they care not if you see them
as their lives a faery tale
in their kingdom made of cardboard
eating pizza three days stale
From a line by angelofprofanity from their poem In this world their permission sought and granted thanks Angel.
 Jun 2013 tread
Garrett
breakfast
 Jun 2013 tread
Garrett
You're pancake batter
I'm a breakfast griddle
Pour yourself onto me
Form yourself onto warm
Bubble over
Simmer, set, and stick
To me
With me
I saw someone using ice cream as imagery so I figured I would write some food-poetry
 Jun 2013 tread
Tim Knight
Painted
 Jun 2013 tread
Tim Knight
your feet are falling apart again,
let me grab a new sole
for you, old soul,
sooth you down into your new low;
let me miss you and kiss you
in my head
because that’s what the books have led us to believe,
pity the painter who has to grieve.

you painted Death from the palette in your palm
as you looked up from your hospital bed calm
and delighted, but you’ve lost this fight tonight
darling.
from coffeeshoppoems.com, a website devoted to poetry.
 Jun 2013 tread
David
Reality is a pretty rude guy,
Sometimes he'll wake you up at 3 a.m.,
And make you drive to strange places you never even heard of
 Jun 2013 tread
DieingEmbers
Crystal raindrops
race the mourning sun
across my
windowed pain
They lead to your soul they say I wonder where they lead when we look out
 Jun 2013 tread
DieingEmbers
My girlfriend made me gay
and boy...


am I happy.
After reading Martins Grandad poem about the ****** I thought I'll try that too gay used to mean extremely happy not what it means now.
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