Lonely Poet

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my lines are barren of words
no one pays attention anymore 
I walk away to try and heal
change those emotional bandages
stop the bloody hurt
when my lyrics are finally gone so will I 
like a blank page…empty
death poetic is where these sonnets will live on
for stanzas from the grave bare the richest fruit
it’s then you see how poison being alive feels to a poet
when from lips when it can’t be
turning to the cover to remember from a photo
remember how abandoned I was with an audience
how forgotten I would become
unless I use creation to keep me alive
I’ll always be alone with my words
even if they are never again repeated
don’t repeat them for me

 
 

Walked To Death

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It was as midnight as midnight could be
that late, dogs cried at the moon
all the way down
as I followed you
straight to an early grave

not once knowing
ignorant, childish, wishing for my own home

we shared nothing
no words, not a glance, not even…presence
only fading footsteps in the rain
before you went to a place you felt you had to
regret I held in a subtle hello
maybe I would have turned it off
stood a final chance
and shooed the voice away from you
but
when lady death came teasing your ear?
there was no way I, me…
someone who would just threaten a made up mind
compete that night
with deathly songs of teenage tragedy

singing you toward an infinite dark
by the tune of your own broken heart

stealing any lust left for tomorrow
then

I watched
as you walked toward the Bluest Oyster
never to see you again