Confessional.A Poem by Thomas FitzgeraldThat moment that makes or brakes you, indeed!How perfectly repulsive the scene of that girl, Deposited upon fleece now churned in ash black, Steel ground to a fine point now dangles in skin, Full of acrimoniousness disease an addiction pack. Veins tapped out until finally they implode, To the simple mind of children now mute, Patters once heard never leaving the ear, Oh you, how that promise now notes on funeral flute. Brace yourself my dear man, she belongs to gossip, A w***e, that b***h, so selfish, they cry in church! Ah those the ones without sin casting pure gibberish, Death now hangs in the air come down from your lofty perch. Mother, I found you in that hovel, the confessional no less, A needle bright as stars in the heavens allow so mild, goodbye you divine spirit, I love you more now, Goodbye again from your footsteps, your only child.
© 2016 Thomas FitzgeraldAuthor's Note
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StatsAuthorThomas FitzgeraldWexford, Leinster, IrelandAboutTo all who know by now - I love you. For those that don't, I review a lot of work on here, and I expect the same in return, friend me but make sure to have conviction! I'm a horror writer mostly bu.. more..Writing
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