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Oy Vey Smear -
More'n' $500.00 For Car Repair!

Hence mine plaintive strut forward
     doleful poetically lamentable
     forlorn shell shock mental state
Hyundai deniably forced
me to absorb, sans
     requisite auto repair tab
     this (Sonata kidding) reality
steered me sigh key -

     wracked (in my pinion)
     into abysmal suspension tooting horn aye
didst painfully, palp
     ably, and pathetically,
     (albeit mutinous on bounty of life)
     envisioned good bye
regarding woebegone condition
     wallet sadly, how checking account

     suffered near mortal blow -
     cents less lee principally reason cry
ying yup possibly heard, asper
     the doll la bills blues and die,
perhaps hastiness dashing
     off metrical missive
     blindsided, clouded, and obscured

     wheely tired call for Eli
(schwa sound) to whisk
     this mister where angels fly
essentially taking Matthew
     Scott Harris goodbye
from money shortages, away high
yar into the outer reaches
     of the twilight auto zone

yet...deep down I dear
lee would rather engine ear
a rescue attempt by claiming fear
less flyer self as charity and gear
legitimate funding to help
     a worthy cause, but such chutzpah,
     would be here

see within thy coda,
     dogma, and car ma,
     thus eye shed headlights for
     "NON FAKE" truth to app pear.
Brendan Hicks Jun 2019
Eldest of my two sons
Was quite the burden
Whilst the second not perfect
He wasn’t absurd

Unaware, naive
Untruthful to himself
Stuck in his own head
Away from everyone else

Deniably sad
And mostly alone
Introverted, quiet
In his own “home”

Odd thoughts struck him
Not the most pleasant
He was quite troubled
Taught himself no lessons

And yet one painful day came
When he was torn away

Abruptly

Now I ask you
A much later day
Once long ago
Which son past away
DElizabeth Nov 2021
I open my eyes hesitantly
awaiting the pain
that never came..

I attempt to give
my body the nourishment
it needs,
wants,
longs for
& deserves..

I drive,
screaming "Heather"
into a safe void
I made for myself
to crumble into pieces.

I realize that
with others,
everything feels out of control..
but by myself,
i am sure of everything.

I wash the day
out of my brown-red hair.

tie it back
with the hair tie
i lent you that one day..

i sit at my desk
and write..
write
write
write..

what else can i do?

what else do people do when
they are seconds from
running towards
what makes then happy..

running towards
what makes them feel at home..

running towards
what makes them feel real.. human.. most like themselves..

running towards
what makes them feel like nothing will ever stop them..

running towards
the one they were created to become & place they were meant to be..

running towards
what makes them feel  a l i v e

leaping with jubilance
into the arms of love, innocence, and vulnerability..

yet simultaneously deniably
running from
what is pulling their heart apart
into trillions of pieces
in all directions,
scattered across
the void that was once a safe space?..
Song mentioned: "Heather" by Conan Gray
KorbydAngyle Mar 2021
The skethertyne bullet into ghosts and darkly knights...

This is the usual sell, senses, a zecher deniably so.

Waning hues of free life justify the hate, which cries alight.
Funk dusty double tone shelves/ funky trace  rounds of grace ensight-
Who shall call? Who shall hear?
What can I believe? Fear is the right.
Edifice; sense feelings fear and senses, aerial winding admiral Piett.

Watch oh' soul  the lavers... the freak real wrought iron, humbled's and stows....

Drench the ghastly hope with all  en masse & bludgeoning fights.
And now the duty evanescence feaks/ the fickle on mirror/more omitted doors/ and as so... the godly shows!The killer's rites!

— The End —