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The moon danced on our fingertips
Clenched in our fists
If it wasn’t for this
I’d be hypnotized by your kiss
There is such thing as too much reality,
For us to face,
In which Halloweens come and go,
But the horror stays.
I tried my best,
It wasn't enough,
I failed test,
My life is tough.
Sunflowers do not bend toward the Sun; they genuflect
Which is exactly right for morning prayers
They have waited in place throughout the night
For His morning, and true enough, He comes

And through the day His liturgies of Light
Illuminating the letters and margins of life
With all the ornaments of Creation
Delight each flower in its work and play

Ordering all endeavors to great effect -
Sunflowers do not bend toward the Sun; they genuflect
Your ‘umble scrivener’s site is: Reactionarydrivel.blogspot.com

It’s not at all reactionary, tho’ it might be drivel.

Lawrence Hall’s vanity publications are available on amazon.com as Kindle and on bits of dead tree:  THE ROAD TO MAGDALENA, PALEO-HIPPIES AT WORK AND PLAY, LADY WITH A DEAD TURTLE, DON’T FORGET YOUR SHOES AND GRAPES, COFFEE AND A DEAD ALLIGATOR TO GO, and DISPATCHES FROM THE COLONIAL OFFICE.
The world feels your pain and sorrow.

The world sees your emptiness and suffering.

The world hears your cries and prayers.

The world knows you're lost and scared inside.

The world hopes and wants you to find peace and comfort.

And the world loves and wants you to find strength

and to keep the faith.
This poem is inspired by the Sandy Hook Elementary School shooting.
Your skin is not paper,
Don't cut it.
You don't spill ink on it,
You spill blood from it.
And if you die,
It is suicide,
And since it is not a natural death,
You roam the earth as a ghost until the time of your natural  death.
31/10/2019
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