Posted on 22 April, 2016
The world is ripe
The gears are in bloom
My machines will kill you
and you are all doomed
… I’m sorry
Category: PoetryTags: amwriting, fiction, micropoetry, Poetry, writing
Make the end fast please!
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I post on a regular basis. Though, not always consistently.
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Bones are that which keeps you here
Turn to dust and your soul will yield
Forgive this old fool
For the mistakes he’ve made
Leave me be and let the past fade
Fire rained over our heads
fume from the rocks seethed out of the ocean
Everything is quiet now
Except the gulls who shrieked and shuffled happily
Their meals now properly boiled
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