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Entry Afterlife

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Bluelighter
Joined
Jan 16, 2007
Messages
3,108
What shall I do
to escape this prison. I will make my fists
bleed the walls of soft flesh waste
Or I
will kick a dent into a door,
throw waste from my flesh upon the floor;
I will to others
behave viciously and get incarcerated
To become another angel strapped
in the afterlife.
We ignored needy little gnomes and their gameboard ambition
we signed the plan of the protectorate.
Born again a springboard
lifted the squalid memory from gutter to rooftop
welded a new pattern that could be called God
if it weren’t for the dead eyes.

This is how it is
age from every age.
 
i like the cadence of this poem how it flows and changes. It is subtle and passionate using great descriptive words that allow the reader to impart meaning. thanks for sharing.
 
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