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The Poets Revolt
Contributed by
scooterhyme
on
Wednesday, 24th February 2010 @ 01:22:52 PM in AEST
Topic:
spiritual
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The vacuum of space what an unsettling mess no credit card no check only infinite regress the beat that goes on and on to the next with the next to gain
I couldn't stop i could not watch my passion eat cereal for breakfast another day where are the forks in the road the old man said he cannot say
For the beach and the hills we may always find steep to burn through a cactus patch or drift on the plains we run across nations and shake with fever from the cameras only to start up again
We shall hope to rot and our creations burn only the door they should learn the rusty door of a dirty kitchen that opens to the back alley leading anywhere you chose into the night into the night and you will not lose
a brazen man steps out of a bar at dawn a crazy wind is blowing and he knows he must be gone
Copyright ©
scooterhyme
... [
2010-02-24 13:22:52] (Date/Time posted on
site)
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