Poetry For Our Time

Poetry heals the wounds inflicted by reason. -Novalis

Another Queen in the Dust

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I found out my life’s purpose in a made for TV movie.

I think that I know it’s true. I think of that very often.

And the television hurts right now.

But it seemed like a good idea at the time.

I was pumped. I was ready. Okay…go!

 

I wanted my life story to include a lot of kissing.

I wanted love. I wanted to be kissed.

I used to like you, down by the school yard.

You used to do something to me. I wanted to be with you when I grew up. I wanted to be you when I grew up.

I fought for you. You left my heart with a black eye. My friends didn’t think much of me.

Now I think of them on fire. And what I think of you…Gnik Nus.

Okay? Just go.

 

My purpose in life WAS a TV movie.

My parents were the taxmen.

Wanted me to marry the preacher’s son. But it wasn’t love, it was my own funeral.

At the reception, I danced to the beat of my own lonely heart (I always was a hot dancer).

If I could go back in time, I would learn to fly. But I’ve always been more fool, not fighter.

Okay? GO!

 

But my biggest secret was that I didn’t use the force I felt for you.

The worst that could happen was that I was left strung out in fields, forever among the sunflowers and the strawberries. But it isn’t the only thing I regret.

You used to make me laugh. And your darkshines would make me cry. I was your muse. I lived for you. But I was scared to lay next to you.

But it was okay. I had to go.

And I will die in bloom.

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Written by TheUndomestic

February 11, 2009 at 4:14 am

Posted in Uncategorized

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