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West Lights

Poetry By: minusthematt
Poetry


Tags: Sick, Of, Tagging


This one, maybe not so good. It's actually somewhat political...


Submitted:Jul 7, 2011    Reads: 36    Comments: 7    Likes: 4   


Hollowings and 'Just rights'
Saved for the canopies, the ancient lights.
Pulling at silly plights
And tries, and melting
Westward into Big lands
Westward into Big sands
Into Big fields
Into aggressive shields.
Pulling at my elbows
Tarnishing our crescendos.
They've left love at the faded sights
Shipped mud on a downslide
Left us with dull knives and sick cries.
My worries are out of sight.
My opinion of the wrong light.
Itsy cries and skitsy lies,
That's all I am in the west sides.
I can't take the hint right
I can't make this stint die.
It's all about the first rights
It's all about the first sights.
Sickening because of the masses
But all I have is not all to lose
We're choosing our own
And that actually isn't you.




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