MY nightmare

March 22, 2012
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As I dream of the smokes of people long ago
i know they have gone on
My dreams drip tears
that form foggy lakes
where the people
the heart broken people
cast down lillies, roses, and dreams
hoping for them to bloom
in the tears
the sobbs
of heartache
and poison.
nothing blooms and nothing dies
as stagnant water under an inky sky
we all cry and go on
martyrs of our own memories

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