Saturday, June 26, 2010


In a day when all the candles over your cake
will be blown to ashes
and you'll be staring at the soul of the party
beyond the ginger ales and cocktails.
The loved ones will be there over the years,
in your room or in your mind
and the ones missed the most will roll you over, kindly
a carpet of dry tears
Say what you have to say, don't spare your words
at least when preaching to yourself

I'd like it so much better if my hands were untied
if temptation and despair did not keep on blackmailing
My head heavy of darkened thoughts working on the sly
and the vultures keep on self-revealing
Until I get enough of it all

Take out my inspirational shotgun
and blow far away them all,
the trashbags disguised as old threatening ladies
on my way

about to fall.

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