Thanks to Hollie, who probably has little to no idea her dismembered face is on this blog.
Red sash undone above the restless air
Our thoughts unleashed between us two alone Nothing but fear enclosed our bodies bare Outside the proles sing, dance, without atone I wish we knew how to stay here for life All the Party can see is pain and death Mindless creatures enjoy their lives chainless But we will be present here now my wife Endless joy within the present breath My own and yours, entwine with love and bliss Once a week
Every week The people here are quiet And the sky is empty. The sun tries to rise, But it’s as lazy as the quiet people. So the quiet people Try to ignore the empty sky Because it makes them feel gray. The clouds try to show the sun They rush in; and fill the vacant sky; But they aren’t what the quiet people want to see So the quiet people go back to sleep; They’re exhausted anyway Nothing new will be made today. Soon cold droplets will fall From the unwanted clouds And cascade down, exploding No one sees the eager drops floating Down, down, down Rain falls as people crawl back to bed. No one is out today No umbrellas speckle the streets No rain patters against raincoats It's merely a Sunday, Where nobody actually expects to see the sun. |
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April 2018
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