A screeching resounds beneath uncolored fleshEchoing off bones, tickling organs withinNerves entice muscles to provoke a crimeBarely constrained by a stench of chagrinPoison envenoms already soaked sentimentsBirthed by a beating culprit varnishedWhat once cared to relieve a burden and tearIs itself charred, battered and tarnishedA masked visage beleaguers an honest smileTo choke behind hidden clenched teethGuilty and bright eyes forced into deceitWhile dancing nightmares riddle underneath
"We don't read and write poetry because it's cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race. And the human race is filled with passion. And medicine, law, business, engineering, these are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, love, these are what we stay alive for."
Monday, April 16, 2007
Beating Culprit
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