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Poems...

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Title: Poem
Rating: PG


Poem

You will be the most expressive
Thing I will ever write, devoid
Of any style or eloquence, as
I sit, tears in my eyes,
Drowning in the sight of them
Holding hands, holding on, holding each
Other as I reach for none.

Fingers covered in glue, I can’t
Seem to let go of the
Keys, staring into the screen where
I’m waiting for someone to say
Don’t worry, it’s okay, I’m here.
Silence. I do not breathe aloud;
I don’t want to miss anything.






Title: Puppet
Rating: PG


Puppet

I carry his head with me.
What guillotine worthy crime is his?
He lays bodiless in a plastic
Coffin; unfinished project waiting to live.
Afraid if I plan too much
His life will be drab as
Mine. I do not want to
Bring him down along with me.
Current Mood:
crappy crappy
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On March 1st, 2005 05:04 pm (UTC), one2three4 commented:
Well, Puppet is rather rather dark, even for you (of course who starts with "I carry his head with me" and makes it light and hopeful?).

The second verse of Poem seems more thought out, less whim-of-the-moment than the first one -- it shows a substantial improvement in pattern but is missing the sort of fire that appears in the first verse. If you could try to meld the different good points of the two verses together, you'd really have something.

But it's still much better than the Taproot song.
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