Open Poetry #43 |
Your Hit Parade |
threadbear Senior Member
since 2008-07-10
Posts 817Indy |
Your Hit Parade Sweet few heartbeats, that’s all that is left Each day flies by like a fragile box kite without life breezes to animate it. Without peeking ahead at the ending, small parades without a majorette vehicles without round rolling vacations choices made in sand. Each moment is a pet that needs to be stroked until it purrs or breast-fed until sated, growing within us, sometimes visible usually not. We smack our own hands in discouragement regretting decisions second-guessing playing random selections from our personal jukebox – It’s is startling, is it not when you see your own tattooed reflection when you least expect to? the game finally balancing, despite our attempts to bribe the future and everyone knows that Fate cheats. |
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© Copyright 2008 Jeff Feezle - All Rights Reserved | |||
BluesSerenade Member Patricius
since 2001-10-23
Posts 10549By the Seaside |
This is something else, and it's all good!! I so enjoyed reading your poem, threadbear~ |
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threadbear Senior Member
since 2008-07-10
Posts 817Indy |
Thanks, Blues Lady, for being so sweet. Fate has a funny way of making us unthankful for all the gifts we're given, huh? Folks ask: 'Why did this happen?' well, sometimes the answer is just 'fate', and that's hard to swallow. |
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