Don't ThinkA Poem by MarkI look at the red where life spills into death. I feel the sky spill on my closed eyes nourishing dirt into life. to live, to die, to feed... and leaving; live again. Oh death, your darkness swallows the light. I don't have to be blinded I don't have to be whole cuz when I feel, I transcend this robot of meat and am reminded where I came from.
© 2014 MarkAuthor's NoteReviews
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12 Reviews Added on January 3, 2014 Last Updated on January 3, 2014 AuthorMarkDallas, TXAboutI"m a gypsy born in New Hampshire, raised in Alaska, schooled in Washington, raised a family in California. Recently settled in Concord NH area. Where to next? I don't really have to think about it, i.. more..Writing
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