Burning Fields
Spoiled centerpiece at the table's edge red apples turned a dull brown grapes withered and wrinkled like the hand that lay motionless sprinkled with drywall dust tv screams in neutral static the only surviving kitten suckles it's lifeless mother's nipple in vain the burning corn filelds crackle and snap the skies turn to a smokened haze before the Sun disappears on schedule somewhere along the road Grandpop and Joe are in the truck with melted ice cream they were bringing back from town
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Deckard
I began writing poetry when I was a teenager and it truly saved me from a destructive path. 'Time Heals' will be on my grave stone'. I have 3 incredible kids who are the greatest gifts that God has given me. If I have advice to give to aspiring...
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