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Crimson Drink

Tears fill the crimson
river from which we drink
The poisonous flow cuts
the breath and stifles
the heart
The no ones of the world
drain the river and take their lives
Lives of the hopeless ones
are worthless to the
Mocking Bird,
their only prey.
Their cry screeches
Through the night
Scorning those who dare cry
The empty world
continues its everlasting
spin as the moon falls
crashing
sorrow and despair
wash over the banks
of the new poison
set in worthless
bones.



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This article has 3 comments. Post your own!

squidzinkpen said...
Sept. 28, 2011 at 8:23 pm:
Yeah...I'm not a poet, and thank goodness I know it! I prefer fiction much much more than poetry. I do like to dabble in different forms of literature though.
 
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Calliashi said...
Sept. 28, 2011 at 7:05 pm:

Eh. Your newer and newer works are giving me less and less of a feel (this is one of your newer works, right?) for the poem. One of your poems DID change my perspective about free verse, but your newer ones are sending me back to the perilous place of hating free verse. DON'T DO THAT TO ME! I haven't checked out your fiction yet, but I have seen your other poems. Work hard!

 

4/5

 
squidzinkpen replied...
Sept. 28, 2011 at 8:23 pm :
Thanks for reading and critiquing!
 
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