Kerry's Imperative of the AssonanceA Poem by E.H. Monroefrom who the hell even knowsI have bruises of mental inflections and reflections of past lives where cries of lives implies that I have died a thousand times I tell stories of gory glory And successes of a hard fought past In thought, I am the skeleton of saints, faceless to show my place of symmetrical secrets and graveyards of angels prove that I’m wingless She anchors my foot to this planet I’ve Planned it I panic that space has not enough room hence these dreams are infinite When I die, my thoughts will map the treasures of mental pleasures and flesh will impress the museums of seasons and come from far and wide to ride the rising tide My dreams are pain splattered in multicolored ink, I think of things that blink emotions into existence My dreams are a series of complexities A Mirrored mirage of schizophrenic me © 2011 E.H. MonroeReviews
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Added on January 3, 2011Last Updated on January 5, 2011 AuthorE.H. Monroehate your f*****g guts, NJAboutS**t eating fuckbag of the crapocalypse. Dystopian Bard and general word rapist. like me here, and i'll kiss you on the face.. http://www.facebook.com/pages/EH-Monroe/226600554032025 Its here .. more..Writing
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