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Open Poetry #47
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The Jackal
Member
since 1999-08-13
Posts 426
Springfield, Massachusetts U.S.A

0 posted 2011-02-20 01:58 PM


I feel this need to separate myself from my shoulder
Before the sandstorm comes
Exposes me as just another older child
A wild unborn creature
A sheep without a shepherd  
One so hollow
To go around this cliche is a dangerous path
I fear this raging empathy will never last

As I break from my creation
I dive in the water and feel my first motion
The sand washes over me and I know nothing once more

[This message has been edited by The Jackal (02-20-2011 04:28 PM).]

© Copyright 2011 John Dixon - All Rights Reserved
easy1
Senior Member
since 2010-05-22
Posts 1209
Southeastern USA
1 posted 2011-02-22 06:04 AM


With such manic-depression and the sublime I can sympathize, at least somewhat. We are creatures of cycles in so many ways.

Well-written and thought provoking.

JerryPat2
Member Laureate
since 2011-02-06
Posts 16975
South Louisiana
2 posted 2011-02-22 07:46 AM


Dark and foreboding is this effort, Jackal. I can relate to a large extent. When you believe you are nothing, it is good to have some sort of cleansing, but even after that you realize you were truly and forever . . . Nothing.

~ Life is sexually transmitted ~

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