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Dark Poetry #4
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moondogz
Member
since 2007-05-01
Posts 397
Great White North

0 posted 2007-09-29 09:58 PM



Thanksgiving

The weasel's in the hen house,
letting some blood.

Eggs tumble from the nest,
splatter in the mud.

He's writing his name,
in red on the wall.

From right to left,
two feet tall.

REDRUM
REDRUM

He's come to call.

No longer any worry,
when the axe will fall.



[This message has been edited by moondogz (09-30-2007 01:49 PM).]

© Copyright 2007 Paul R Breen - All Rights Reserved
Seeker72
Member
since 2007-02-24
Posts 387
Oregon USA
1 posted 2007-10-02 12:23 PM


That was a quality read. I loved it.
moondogz
Member
since 2007-05-01
Posts 397
Great White North
2 posted 2007-10-02 10:48 PM


Thanks Seeker72 for your kind words...they are always welcome.
                    moon.

Abbeon
Member
since 2006-11-30
Posts 228
Curiousity, and wonder
3 posted 2007-10-04 02:49 PM


Hmm. well that was definitely a twisted peace of work. The meaning I got was probable not what you meant but still was amazing. Huzah. (No insults meant I’m a little warped twisted poems under dark is definitely a Good thing)

The world behind these thoughtful eyes, caution may seem crazy.

moondogz
Member
since 2007-05-01
Posts 397
Great White North
4 posted 2007-10-04 10:36 PM


Thanks for your comments Abbeon, I'm curious as to what meaning you got out of this poem.
               moon.

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