Life

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  • Life

    Life

    The howling of the wind and weeping rains
    drag down my open sorrow like a graping wound in pain
    midnight dreams of hands and feet that reach over and around and engulf me shadow boxing in the dark within the roar of distant crowds.

    Eyes wide open with sight unseen listening with ears of wax and debris painful  memories that hunts my soul and rack my well-being life makes me old lips so dry with desert thirst crack and brusied knowing not where it hurts moans of woe that come from way beneath the depths of hell where you left me in a heap of trash and filthy streets

    Hush now and be still allow yourself to be silent try not to feel the agony of lost the defeat of goodwill  Hush now no tears dry your eyes show no fear the worst is over one day you will heal there shall be no scar nor tear no wound noone will ever know that death has visited here Hush now silent be still quite yourself this is life's war a daily living hell no refunds no deals. 

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    Poetry is not the expression of personality but an escape from personality.

    T. S. Eliot (1888-1965) American-English poet and playwright.

    1understands’s Poems (33)

    Title Comments
    Title Comments
    Play 0
    Life 0
    You Knew 1
    What do you call it 0
    Death of an Icon 0
    lonely 3
    Most Things 0
    `Men and Pizza toppings 1
    His Life Or Toys 0
    Burning Bridges 0
    On my mind 0
    Are You Really Listening 0
    Take Flight 0
    Leaving 0
    TROUBLE 0
    Who I Am 1
    LOSEING HURTS 1
    Group Thought 0
    Competition 0
    life is a lesson 0
    Wild 0
    After You Moma 0
    Rain 1
    Missing 0
    Music In Your Arms 0
    AGREE 0
    Will To Love 1
    Moveing Day 1
    Friends With Benfits 1
    Tired of Loseing 0
    Number Nine 0
    This Conection 1
    Whoa! 0