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Two misfits found comfort
In the arms of each other.
I can write a book about you
When you don't even know my favorite color, it's blue
The same feeling I get when I am missing you
I don't know why but also when I am *with you
So there Bob was standing right there
buck *** naked
while everyone stared
inside a Saloon
cigar smoke billowing in the air
Someone cracked Bob with a chair
It was Rob
Bob's twin who was a total snob
It was like an old time Western with John Wayne
Bob yelped out as if in pain..
Rob dumped his twin in the mud
telling his twin he's the stud
Bob yelled out again as if in pain...
moments later
A horse flew by with a woman on top
she grabbed Bobs hand and, swung him up
It was Wicked Calamity Jane
And the two road off, in the pouring rain.
This poem is copyrighted and stored in author base. All material subject to Copyright Infringement laws
Section 512(c)(3) of the U.S. Copyright
Act, 17 U.S.C. S512(c)(3), Krisselle S. Cosgrove August 27th, 2015
one day i'll wed you
said the child to the girl much older than him.

echoes of her laughter rippled the winds
planting a rose on the child's cheek.

the child said knowing nothing about wedding
and nearly nothing about her
except

she filled him with a vague feeling
that made him wait to see her
when she was not around.

she was lost many decades ago
and the child moved far away
from that wedding vow.

the news came through the wind
she had died of cancer
somewhere far from homeland.

the child still dreams
her laughter rippling the winds
echoing by the lake

remembers his wedding vow
on that summer noon
still knowing nearly nothing about her.
This morning, upon my wall
with lilies, lilies tall
sun shadows
the beauty
of it
all

Colors
and flowers
birds of dawn
in the singing trees
has only ever been a dream
like dead leaves they fall
to the scissors ruthlessly mean
some on the ground aimlessly crawl
some in the air spin!

drooping eyes rue losing them
so does the lightened head
a sigh falls for all those slain
with little chance to be remade!

quietly drop on the white linen
the slaughtered by considered choice
once nurtured upon the brain
erstwhile silken joys!

a breezy walk out in sunshine
can't take the weight off mind
somewhere inside is heard a crying
of the ones scattered behind!
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