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Displaced places

Poetry By: walkingonfate
Poetry


Haha, I was bored and the words just came :)


Submitted:Dec 19, 2009    Reads: 74    Comments: 6    Likes: 1   


My very bones shudder at your touch

Listen to my heart, it beats as such

this sensation so great, I sink to the ground

The hilt of your sword glints in the mound

of scattered dreams, with broken faces

a nostalgic scream, of displaced places

Indefinate voices are ahead of the crowd

This is what they solemly sing aloud

With pickets and pockets and pickpockets who pick,

the pockets of the old, of the dead, of the sick

comes nothing of good, no better desire

to wish you had pickpocketed, you dirty little liar





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