Rigor Mortis (Unfinished)

November 12, 2009
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Put your head on my shoulder,
As the family flame begins to smolder.
In my young age I've gotten colder.
Though maybe jaded it's a very fine shoulder.

The sun is rising but I don't anymore.
Not since I felt your head hit my floor.
Open your heavy eyes and look into mine,
Just tell me once that I'll be fine.

So much noise fills a parlor room,
But none of it comes from you.
Gravity pulls on your high wire
Brings me down but takes you higher.

Knock on the door but I'm out of town,
Try as you might to bring my plane to the ground.
On a bed of rock I once stood
But my head is in the clouds for good.

Follow me for a short train ride.
Begins to surface, a much darker side.
You stand beside me, but it's still not right,
I find more comfort in sickly city light.

Clouds of smoke bring my eyes to burn
Bottles and cans, shots and sudden heartburn.
No memories of you to make my blood boil,
But I discover my lineage is far from royal.

Place your arm around her shoulder,
The family flame will soon grow colder.
In his old age he's gotten bolder
Though maybe wretched, its a very fine shoulder.

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Suzie17 said...
Dec. 7, 2009 at 4:27 pm
I'm sorry about your mother...As far as your writing style, sometimes simplicity is best. I thought this was beautiful. I myself have probably written over a hundred poems, but sometimes feel like I still haven't said what I wanted. I hope you find the words you are looking for, and keep writing!
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