Posts
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Cinnamon
She was always wrapped in cinnamon.
Her aroma was a mixture of brown and gold oak
stacked together like firewood,
as was her house on the side of the mountain
made from a similar material, -
In the Name Of the Idiot, the Betrayer, And All Lying Bigots. Amen.
I've crossed into the spirit world
I've found that it looks strange.
Everything that I was told
Its really not the same.
Where is the trumpet fanfare?
The golden bridge to cross?
The hovel I had slid down -
That Tiny Wooden Cabin
Waving my goodbye out the windows of the
Gray Coach bus for the last time
Was so hard.
It was hard to admit I was
Really going to miss that place
Something about the fact that’s it’s so final -
The neighbors got a karaoke machine
My neighbors got a karaoke machine.
It spews bright orange and blue patterns around their fences,
our fences.
And there's a disco ball
whose glitter is filtering through their windows,
our windows. -
Where, is the Ball?
Here! Over here!
I've discovered it all.
Rejoice and be gladd for I've found the ball.
The orenge and blue one
With the green on the stem.
Oh never mind,
Thats a mad mother hen.
I got it! Don;t worry!
Loves
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15 cents for a dress
Cockroaches on the tables, no bathroom breaks, what could be worse?
Rats on the floor, no air conditioning, what could be worse?
Terrible pay, that's what could be worse
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We Fight For What's Right
We fight for what's right
We struggle every night
We work all day
For no pay
We make clothes
But no one knows
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Seasonal Opportunity
Opportunity is but a moment in our lives,
that leads to both good and evil.
It can lead to justice in court,
or prejudice on the streets.
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"We can"
Every day is new.
With every possibility,
Every day can change.
So why shouldn’t we change?
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Bug
Contrary to popular belief, I’m not a bug, at least, not a common pest like moths or ladybugs, or god forbid spiders. I’m graceful, or as graceful as your children’s book describes me, and I have class.
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Haunting Hands
As the Cold feeling Spreads
Sends Shivers down the Spine
The Fear and Worry Pushes Through
But in this Frigid touch
Is the sense of Remebrance
The Sense of Love