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"uncoated" poems
The epitome of inequality. Frosting is distributed unevenly; caked gloriously on some, depressingly absent on others. Anger and frustration mount each time a claw raises uncoated multi-grains to my mouth. But each time my grasp manages to find a sterling white mini-wheat, I remember why I put up with all the **** But the question beckons, whether or not the absence of imperfections would lessen the resonance of the frosty treats to my oral senses.
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Aug 11, 2011
Aug 11, 2011 at 3:58 PM UTC
Frosted Mini Wheats
Lying beneath the earth's realm Inside a wooden box No vision is seen A wasted present is pondering For I was simple But plain as the rising sun On uncoated slab Till this day come forth I will be a legend To a group whom decided Hanging me Was the best way to die How can a noose free my spirit?
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Jan 22, 2010
Jan 22, 2010 at 5:13 AM UTC
A Hanging Death
I close my eyes to sleep to see you smile through your long, wavy hair. Through uncoated curtains, the warm gold of sunlight is soft on your fair skin. And pearls don’t shimmer as your eyes, wide and (bright) as heaven is on dark, cloudless nights. And my eyes turn to yours and we laugh like it’s new and we fumble over hot breaths and we sigh deep, (a deep, contented sigh) of unused I love yous. And when mouths no longer utter the right words, the silence dwelt in is home. In the blink of an eye, the crank of a **** once more the cogs of life turn anew. Since when do flies feast hastily on rotten hopes of unfulfilled promises and dreams? To sadly realize (terrible fruition) there is no home to go to when there is no you—a fate worse than death.
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Jul 27, 2017
Jul 27, 2017 at 12:07 PM UTC
Dream 987