Tuesday, January 31, 2012

Name Goes Here

Bang, Bang, Baby. Hear me squirm

Then follow the ring

The way can’t clear

Sweet lovely things cling tight

Detriment to a career, a desperation most clear

What fellowship

Holds the hand that gives forward ways

To lend

They miserly be, a grating grind that halts

In no man’s land.

Desperate action dictate

A fleeting faulting purge.

No screams, no cries, claw the grind

Chip away, bang, bang, comes but once a day.

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