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No... no... I'm not going to shoot or stab, or hurt anyone in any violent fashion. I'm past all of that. Today was relatively uneventful, no complaints there... I mean usually an eventful day would mean something bad happening, but today was pretty fun filled and not horrible, besides a few tears here and there (not from my eyes, or anything that was inflicted by me). I used a few of my creative juices, instead of doing some much needed studying for my yearlies in two weeks.
Rain poured down on the empty street
The grey skies letting go
Rain beating to a steady beat,
The gutters start to flow
No life appears behind closed doors
The town is silent, dead
Windows dull in all the stores
In streets where no one treads
A figure moves from in the dark
Slowly slipping away
Hides beneath his cardboard arch
And begs his soul to stay
The rain burns his dirt stained skin
But leave his bones to dry
Suffering ends within a sin
Left out there to die
*cough* not my best... but it's what I do in public, for other people..
and too afraid, you're too afraid to fall for anything. and too afraid, much too afraid to sing.
I agree with majic, this is excellent, and the four line stanza (it has a name!) is my favorite format for poetry.
The subject/title Weapon of Choice... why that name? Are you familiar with the Fatboy Slim song of that name? (the one with the video where Christopher Walken goes flying around in a suit and tie..)
"History is more or less bunk." - Henry Ford
This post was edited by Bunk on Jul 30, 2004.