Tuesday, August 18, 2009


regret is the word that fosters my soul
hope beyond a fence made of bones
lost in the angles of your smile
high off the carpentry of your body

once in awhile i believe this trip
was bound to derail at first slip

the liquid mass has turned to stone
never again to possibly return
so show me all the cards you hold
as i deflate as you steadily swell
with the tricks still up your sleeve
and all that's left for comfort
are your pathetic prophecies

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