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By: RisinSun28~

hiccuping all the way to the sink
slothly congealing society
linking mast to sail, yet drowning
what some fools think
old ways, poor days spent
sparing time, awning makes
for shady comfort, bathroom
hard to come by, wine kills whine
since time began the divide
of dime to nickel, penny to pinch
yourself you must be dreaming,cents
stacking unearthed in the search
for humanity, within yield to sense
diversely turning these lathes of truth
peeling back the rough
hidden patches of lust
greed hate and envy
inkling of shining pennies reflecting
the center of the universe
pending your notion morose
pressed in predestined poses
of postureless posture, preening
the greasy residue of sleep from the eyes
to clogged with dirt for tears when you cry
finally over the hills of filth that has dried
they flow down
dripping through to taste
the salt of demise the clipping
of memory kicking
sickening the thought of the rise
and fall to depend on the drinking
what fools think sometimes hoping
to mediate the soap of good faith
in through the outdoor debate reduced
topsey turvey border finishing

 

last in the minced minded grasp

 

of no hollering masses holding you back

 

you dream of the last with such splendor

 

yet when it is gone the past

 

remains in the softest of grass

 

you laze in your own repast

 

o pretender