Stranded on euthanasia street
A number of casualties walk
on the chalk lines around the
thousands of the bloodless scarecrows
Weeds and black roses grow
in gardens of screeches
A morbid hawk hovers the emptiness
barking of a dog reverberates
Eyelids are glued to mailboxes
A mindless city stuck in the trenches
Watching television from the grave
Chuckling as coffins close shut
Numbness and laughter blend
Mothers cauterized by loneliness
Fathers gravitate to only lust
Avoiding love at all cost
Mice crawling from pillow cases
Skeletons playing poker Indian style
in front of the rusted closets
Using marrow as golden chips
Despair and poverty shook hands
Pull the exasperating plug
on any side of this hellacious town
Take a sip of cyanide before crossing
this sharp and dying town
This gives me chills. What a dark twisted town! I think I would take a detour around this town. Very well written!:)
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I love the detour comment lol I did my job if I gave you chills lol
Thank you Stella!
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Lol you did!:) always my pleasure Braeden!
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my god this is one of the best poems I’ve ever read of yours!
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Thank you Tara!
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I think I know where that town is. 👌🏼👌🏼
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You do, where?
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I don’t want to say because I don’t want to offend people in that town. 😇
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lol I like that answer
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this is vivid poetry…we still do exposed coffins in villages of Eastern Europe…some of that stuff is not that far away.
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That’s good to learn – thank you!
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