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Tags: If


Submitted:Apr 3, 2012    Reads: 13    Comments: 2    Likes: 4   

With rust transferred to fingers
and strength telling tales of failure
We curse the heavy invisible links
that bind us to this life

Seems the blade of freedom
swells blunt and still
Seems the scent of tomorrow
remains paused in yesterday

Bruised cold hands
patterned with ambitious blood
I curse the heavy black drapes
that leave rainbows absent

Seems the noose of freedom
sways frayed and alone
Seems the dreams of tomorrow
are visions that haunt; today

Wrists with tattoos of absence
diagrams that blur
We curse the grey sodden clouds
choke on fuel stitched air

Seems the stirred freedom
bubbles wet and ineffective
The poison of tomorrow
labeled a cure for today...

If I could lend weight to the blade
If I could tighten the knot
If I could underwrite the poison
I would not be the failure, the mirror suggests..............


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