Post-apocalyptic Homesick BluesA Poem by TkessEnd of a relationship or the end of the world?
Like lava sweeping through Pompeii The morning after burned us Tore through us Left us with nothing, but White noise and Blank stares The kind that pierce Like rusty daggers
To the heart, Through the heart
The trees are dying The sky is falling Four horses and Reanimated remains Of who we were, Traverse this landscape If only in our heads
With a flower in your hair Soot covered despair Tiptoe the minefield (Mushroom cloud) Soup for the soul
Black moon, This winter of our world Falls to the ground And the dust we came from Becomes the dust we return © 2011 TkessReviews
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Added on September 12, 2011Last Updated on September 12, 2011 AuthorTkessPittsburgh, PAAboutWhen I first joined this site I provided a very vague profile of who I am. So, I figured I would elaborate a bit more on what makes me, me. I am 30 years old. For the past 7 ½ years I was a me.. more..Writing
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