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I put in my time and I paid the price,
I gained the honour to be your personal sacrifice.
I traded my last breath for your new beginning,
it wasn’t the alter I envisioned, but I still consider this winning.

I swear every single word up and down,
it was voluntary; you didn’t need to trap me.
You know I’d crush my structure to resist your frown,
and I’ll give anything to know I played a roll in making you happy.

I spoke the oath now do the deed,
to help your growth you know I’d bleed.
I swapped my last day for the first in your new life,
I apologize for bleeding while suggesting a better way for you to hold the knife.

I demolished my own walls for you to see open doors,
I’ll remain motionless, no need to strap me.
I always promised you that I’d gladly give my life for yours,
it would be worth it knowing I played a part in making you happy.

I reject my last rights and deny my last meal,
I ponder an anaesthetic but choose instead to feel.  
And if you were to offer me a chance to leave and run,
I’d suggest the most dangerous game but I don’t have a gun.

Some would call me a down right fool,
and supportive well wishers would tell me I hold more worth than this.
But to assist in your desired creation; I’d be canvas, supply or tool,
to be responsible for that smile is the only thing that’s priceless.

After it all I’m reduced to dust and bone,
you’ll keep going on and I’m now put to rest.
But you know deep down you’re never alone,
you’ll still carry my heartbeat within your chest.
 Sep 2019 Micrography-Mike D
Cné
~
It lays silkenly sweet against
sun kissed skin
tiny straps, perhaps strapless
delicate linen softly draped
tender tiny tucks and nips
delicious bows tied at nape

It cascades around curvy hips
‘round a waterfall that slightly drips
sprightly colors all wink as
they whisper and swish
full of giddy and laughter, they flirt
away gloom, rain and mist

Teasing touches wraps around thighs
dancing daisies pause as I walk by
serenely skirt and brush past
with a soft wispy cushion sway
plump full, recline, pause to chat
on a sultry summer’s day

~
 Sep 2019 Micrography-Mike D
Cné
~
painted parted lips
strokes of bold marks left behind
trails of blush on flesh

~
 Sep 2019 Micrography-Mike D
Cné
~
Wandering witches, wave your wands,
lose your limbs of earthly bonds.
Friday the 13th full moon sings
so flex your power and stretch your wings.

Wandering witches, weave your words
to be the bane of beasts and birds.
Hex the hateful with potions of love
Poke the prideful in crestfallen thereof

Sing sisters sing, into the full moon night
never knowing the demon's blight.
Fearful farce and fallen stones
bury the bad in blood and bones.

~
A little fun write for Friday the 13
https://youtu.be/pta-gf6JaHQ
We’ve bottled up the rain and sent it East
Where it has swept away the treasures of a lifetime
And howling winds have torn the roofs
Off our houses and our souls

The furies march in endless waves
Of lightning led by thunder
Across the sacred middle lands
That form the heart-beat of our being,

Ravishing the Eastern shores
With hurricanes and floods
While we here in the scorching West
Watch all the green things wilt and die.

We got so little in return
For sending all that water East:
Parched and ravaged forest lands
On Fire in endless places.

We need some of that rainfall here
To cool the blazing desert sands.
To even out the catastrophic
Damage we have done to Gaea.

While little planes fall from the stormy skies
And land on fields and homesteads,
The houses all hide troves of weapons
With angry trigger fingers waiting.

Our lungs burn in the Amazon;
The leader won’t accept our help.
It’s getting hard to catch a breath
As we choke Inhaling flavored vapors.

There’s little hope, but still they come
Across the muddy borders
Seeking safety and prosperity
That’s nothing but illusion

The weather Gods are furious
At what we’ve done, and we’ve become
Just twisted icons swirling in the flames
Of hatred, greed and apathy.

Following a Judas Goat, we march
Toward destruction of our planet
Shouting slogans filled with lies
And promises that all is well.
ljm
Last night, at 98 degrees hot, we  had the mother of all wind,   thunder, lightning, and dust storms. And not a drop of rain to ease the pain.  There's an old folk song called "What Have They Done To The Rain".  Joan Baez sang it. In the song it never stopped raining  .It's  just the opposite here, sad to say.
love is a drug;
once you have a taste
you can't get enough.
maybe that's why I am afraid,
afraid to take a sip,
a bite,
a whiff,
of love.
i might overdose.
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