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Tip Toeing From Grace

Tip toe love
On shakey boots,
Existentialism wasted
On inane thoughts.

Painted white dove
Searching for its roots.
Salty remorse of failure tasted,
As the inner beauty rots.

Ill mannered
And a bit of malicious intent
Combine to create
A vicious beast.

It seems now the standard
Of the time ultimately spent
Culminates in a raw hate
That will never cease.

Never

A smile found
In long narrow clouds;
A softly colored heart
From the swirls of cream in coffee.

Forever

A smile bound
By heartbroken shrouds
That weren't there in the start;
We know not what most we need.


And at the end of this maze
Of turns that lead us to this den,
No answer sits awaiting detection
The wanderer is granted no token,

Just a blank wall.

Just two chairs sitting in the haze,
One for us and one for Him.
Between laughter and reflection
He tells us in calm words spoken,

The proper steps to taking a fall.




Poetry by Latiep Nolingus
Read 701 times
Written on 2005-10-05 at 21:55

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