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Our love was like a garden,
Nurturing to the eye while
The roots choked on
Their own soil. Or maybe
Our love was like
Two redwood..
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a poem inspired by a beautiful photograph I found on tumblr, this is the link, http://stremplerart.tumblr.com/post/134270754454/fundobjekt
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The poets wrote of deaths,
Not their own, nor anyone they knew.
Hardly a new feat,
“Timor mortis conturbat me” was the mant..
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True there is no “I” in poetry
But there is heart.
There are souls
From time immemorial
With secrets yet to share,
Seductions to be..
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a poem of the dichotomy of life, the ever growing separation between classes,
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Your men are
cascading,
Oh widows of war,
Cascading away from you and
Out of your arms and your lives
They are
left alone drowning in the s..
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He ran from the Cross that chased him,Afraid of the impending combinationWhen the wooden slabs mix with the living skinBurning its way into its own et..
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yet another attempt at Haikiu, for one or two here
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a piece on co-dependnecy
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there is no them, there is only us
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