There's Not Even Any Tiles Here TO Shed Blood On

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

taken from my book, "Our Founded Feelings"

There's Not Even Any Tiles Here TO Shed Blood On


Flyin' ham sandwiches

Walk this dreary land

Thee unopened possibilities

They never seem to to walk this way again

I never knew where the ball was gonna drop

Until the meat trolley slammed it's brakes

And left us all dead

Wonder what's wrong with me?

I wonder what's wrong with your head

You don't seem to care

Or know

What's happened to us

The custard ketchup

That has splattered across the floor

Does the world need to dig it up?

Has caring not really meant much?

To a French fry?

To it's love?

What did you think was gonna happen?

That I was gonna come crawling

More than once?

You've had your fun

I fucked up

You're over me

Where your mouth's been has proved it

Now get off the pedestal

That I put you on

And die and shit

Your world will crumble

Your world will end

Don't bother me

Just go to Hell

Your rotten love

Never existed

The heart you clamed you had

Was all just a laugh

All fun and games to you

What was I?

Just a chess board?

Where's the money then?

Did you place high bets?

I know you won

I bet you got rich

Well, fuckin' die then!

You fuckin' bitch!


06-08-'21 #3

D. L. Cannon

Submitted: June 09, 2021

© Copyright 2021 DLCannon. All rights reserved.

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