

NightSometimes, it's a good night.Night
It's a good night for depression: Clouds to blot out the wonders above, Cold enough to keep you from dancing, No one else is awake, Nothing to eat, Even less to drink, No smiles left from the day.
It's a good night for introspection: Time to question everything you love, Time to think on those one-day things, No medicine for the backache, Tired feet, Blood in the sink, Nothing left you want to say.
Sometimes, it's just a bad night.


InsideIf you could see my face,Inside
You would know what I am, And who I am not. Recognize the features, But not the expression. The one who now wears this smile Is not the man you knew as A Comrade.
A Confidant.
A Friend.
You will find
Nothing familiar In these eyes You will see A Stranger A Shadow
A Ghost Of a man you used to know Or didn't.
You would see, he and I Have many things in common Things I have practiced Just for the illusion The sentimental ceremony The deception of the familiar


Insomnia-drivenTake it. Every last drop. And use his hope To hold you aloft For one more moment in the sun.Insomnia-driven
He would die For you, For her, For him, For anyone.
But not me.
I don't love to bleed. I don't live to serve.
I crave the sky. I am the one who lived, And I am the one
Who is chained down.
He'll just fade, Grey, Withered, Smiling that empty smile.
If I could, I would strangle All the smiles All the fears All the weakness Away from his heart, Wring it


Doting on Lady WinterIf I could sleep,Doting on Lady Winter
I would have liked to wake
With you and the sun, Looking at all the reasons and ways You make everything right.
But in our dreams we weep, And in our hearts we ache. For the path we would run Is now a twisted, frozen maze Tainted with a malicious blight
That fills my mind
With shadows and doubts That you are in any way true; Are even real Or ever cared.
While I was blind I walked a short route. And on it I saw that you Were too cold to feel. And I just stared,
Realizing there
Devious Comments
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It was evening all afternoon.
It was snowing
And it was going to snow.
The blackbird sat
In the cedar-limbs.
~Wallace Stevens
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"Lost in time and lost in space........and meaning."
--
--
It was evening all afternoon.
It was snowing
And it was going to snow.
The blackbird sat
In the cedar-limbs.
~Wallace Stevens
Wow! You really are a brilliant poet, aren't you?
Why don't you join the poetry contest from [link] ?
It's free and every nitwit such as myself who enters gets a small gift
but someone like you might win one of their $10 000 or $100 000 prizes.
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Snap-hiss bitches!
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I tell you such fine music awaits in the shadows of the fires of hell. -Charles Bukowski
I would find it hilarious if a large meteor hit this planet shortly after I finished writing and sending this.
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If you are looking for life to give you a break, then you are a blind fool.
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I tell you such fine music awaits in the shadows of the fires of hell. -Charles Bukowski
Ironically, if I mugged and killed him, it WOULD be the end of HIS world, and I would be ultimately proving him right.
Damn it!
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If you are looking for life to give you a break, then you are a blind fool.
--
I tell you such fine music awaits in the shadows of the fires of hell. -Charles Bukowski
--
If you are looking for life to give you a break, then you are a blind fool.
--
I tell you such fine music awaits in the shadows of the fires of hell. -Charles Bukowski
--
If you are looking for life to give you a break, then you are a blind fool.
--
I tell you such fine music awaits in the shadows of the fires of hell. -Charles Bukowski
If he's already in a lake of fire, I guess I'll have to throw other sinners at him, or something...
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If you are looking for life to give you a break, then you are a blind fool.
--
I tell you such fine music awaits in the shadows of the fires of hell. -Charles Bukowski
--
If you are looking for life to give you a break, then you are a blind fool.
--
I tell you such fine music awaits in the shadows of the fires of hell. -Charles Bukowski
--
If you are looking for life to give you a break, then you are a blind fool.
the fact is noone wakes up until its time and then, its usually quite brief. this is much more poignant. at least youre directing something at the massive paranoia out there.
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I tell you such fine music awaits in the shadows of the fires of hell. -Charles Bukowski
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I tell you such fine music awaits in the shadows of the fires of hell. -Charles Bukowski
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What does not kill you makes you more cynical...
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Catalyst
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