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Created on: July 30, 2009
How can this imaginary impulse;
become so imp active?
Upon the rooftops standing, shouting-
I engage only engage.
Force feed myself to let myself in.
Internal combustion and,
internal disdain shall we really be saved?
Together we stand? I alone stand.
Another call from a familiar scenario.
How many times can this happen,
this image of meant to be?
Lord save my soul!
As I have been told to break bread,
but bring thy enemies and let me be revealed.
I am merely a curious soul who wishes
the best for those emblazed!
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Poetry: Sorrow
I'm no longer me
It's like I've conformed into someone you would like me to be.
Or was I really happier before
Was it the weed?
Or
Sorrow Death and Grieving
A leaf and flower petal
Went floating in the breeze
A tiny little feather
Joined them in the trees
A
A hidden figure hides his face
People's gazes giving chase
His head is hung in deepest sorrow
It's there today and tomorrow
It
America's Hero
I knew that you would answer
Once you heard the call
Never did I imagine
That the towers, they would fall
Though sorrows well and flood like lunar tides
And evil settles in a sieging war;
My LORD, my strength, shall shield me on
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