We Curse The Living, We Mourn The Dead: 5 Poems
23 September, 2009
Author: Colin Stewart
The foundation was cast and now it meant
the mystery would be secure for this fallen gent.
I walk here everyday but do not repent.
His remains were mixed in with wet cement!
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Down at the quarry we were all alone.
With the haste of my actions I heard her moan.
She'll never again see her fiance Fred
and under the water went poor Sally's head!
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For those who get on and endure the ride
this carousel offers what life denied
and perpetual motion remains a surprise.
The dead keep moving in counter clockwise!
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In my ghostly return to even this bet
your skin is prickly so I've made you sweat
and still you try but cannot sleep
in knowing you felt my life was cheap.
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He captured her lifeless body in an eternal pose
and brought this chapter of murder to a close
on a canvas commemorating the scene of the crime.
The 'Brush stroke' killer had struck one more time!
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Comments on this poem/writing:
Eu de novo (187.42.56.82) -- Friday, September 25 2009, 02:41 pm as we curse the living and mourn the dead, we forget to live our own lives. |
barb (67.58.197.120) -- Wednesday, September 30 2009, 03:22 am I think your writing is great.but the subject matter is morbid to me anyways, I,m strange tho I don't like any read if it's about murder or killing anyone or anything, |
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