The Boiling ManA Poem by Joseph - MichaelThere was a time when I fell so hard on my knees and I was only 17 when I wrote this. Years later, it's still taunting me, even in my sleep.
Shh, Listen... There's A Man... Playing An Unusual Violin...
With The Strings That Are The Nerves... And The Veins... From His Own Arms...
How Wonderous The Sounds... Of The Agonies Made... By The Slicing And Dicing...
Down With The Lambs... Up With The Larks...
Run To The Beds, Children... Before It Gets Dark...
Around, Around The Sun We Go... As The Moon Goes Around Us...
While The Parts Of Us Are Dying... In The Slow And The Painful Ways...
We Do Not Die Of Death... We Die Of The Vertigo...
Run, Dying Breeds, Run... Like There's No Time... And No Tomorrow...
Yet, We're All Still Gonna Die One Way... Or Another... No Matter What...
And I Just Saw The Dead... Small And Great... Stand Before The God...
I Witnessed The Blood Of The Christ... Dripping On All Of Their Skins...
This Is Just Another Altar... Inside The Church... Of The Fears And The Pains...
Now, I Know Why Jesus Wept...
© 2013 Joseph - MichaelAuthor's Note
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Added on February 12, 2008Last Updated on November 19, 2013 AuthorJoseph - MichaelDetroit, MIAboutI'm no one special. I'm just a single father in the MMA training to kill the anger and the personal pain in order to move on. Whenever I'm not busy, even with the damn procrastination issue, I try my .. more..Writing
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