It was malicious
calculated
her mind turned it over and over
until it tired her logic
half-dazed
it was put to the shelf
with the tattered books
and burnt-out rainbows
Get out
This bed is a morgue
it reeks of self-fulfillment
extinguished by wasted
breaths
Sleep becomes
a heart-attack
The streets need
more footprints
they keep getting trampled
by the rain
Each excuse
Every half star smile
She’s dropping them
Like daisy chains
They sift
Through the sidewalk cracks
A premature
death sentence
was not
expected
But his eyes were
A guillotine
And she
Marie Antoinette
...whytt*06
© 2006 whyttb
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Printed from www.DarkPoetry.com/dp/1231/89261 on Friday September 05th, 2008 10:03 AM
Certain elements © 1996-2008 Matthew Steven (matts.org)
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