Sunday, October 4, 2009


Haze and gray clouds maze down and shroud
the sky; as rain falls thunder claps cry aloud.
And upon the porch, a slippery plank lie;
a dangerous fate; a predestined time.
But then its to late you trip and commence
shattering glass fragments.
Slit wrists and bloody fingertips
drenched in soggy wine drips
as you slip to the floor; drift off and snore.
Blood stains and gore as you
bleed out and breathe out no more;
drift on to explore; ride off on the storm.

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