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10wanda

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Visual isotopes on a dazed high
sketch, on a canvas as time flies by
The smoke rises, my, a spiral so high,
nothing happens, until we die!
Art is addicting, an addict am I,
truth is I, the truth, a lie!
Candid sweets on Rubble Street
bubble wrapped and packaged meat
sell bodies to make the ends meet,
as a devilís merchant peddles discreet!
Art is addicting, an addict am I,
truth is I, the truth, a lie!
Ocean shores, rouse me more
than the eyes or lips of this scentless whore,
who yields a shield of fabled lore,
yet has no soul, no core, not now, no more!

Art is addicting, an addict am I,
truth is I, the truth am I, the truth a lie!.


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All not saved will be lost.


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Comments

The following comments are for "My lover (the whore)"
by Siah

A nice poem
Liked this poem. Great rhythm and flow.

( Posted by: DrKilldare [Member] On: May 8, 2007 )





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