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I've been awakened.

Not by choice,

but by light.

I awoke from a state in which,

I cannot translate.

I have risen from my death,

a bucket of human grease,

this landfill of a heart,

the lullabye the dead sing

from the back of the movie theater,

where I got my first hand job.

I awoke from this sleep and these dreams.

I swam in oceans of saliva with drowning words,

never to be spoken.

Yeah, I snuggled up with secrets,

warm and dirty beneath the sparkling Winter sky.

So, who turned on the light?

The light makes everything ugly.

I look with my ugly eyes and there is nothing left

for my ugly imagination.

Nothing to dream about.

And I know,

in my dreams,

I am still sleeping.

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The following comments are for "The Ugly Light"

It was a good poem until the end and then it became depressing the way you ended it. I like "Yeah, I snuggled up with secrets,
warm and dirty beneath the sparkling Winter sky." because it brought a grin.

( Posted by: Legs [Member] On: June 15, 2006 )

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