SwitchbladeA Poem by PeteLife, death and everything in between ...Curtains drawn over nervous hearts. We rise to play our assigned parts. Spoken word. Curses slurred. Soap opera, but no 'Days of our Lives'. Bees that sting returning to crowded hives. Sorry syllables dipped in curare. Traffic jam behind one red Ferrari. Parched throats being cleared with chapped lips. Rubber bands launching paper clips. Blurry reflections of what lies within. Life is death's prodigal twin. Lonely reason takes a bow to mayhem. Shadows stray not far from they that cast them. Merry-go-rounds with varying speeds. Garden of Eden with scattered seeds. Bible pages flip in a cold breeze. Wounded souls cast down on hands and knees. Wandering deserts with no oasis. Mere survival with no truthful basis. Feelings blaze and drip like hot candle wax. Cutting wide swaths like a lumberjack ax. Fruitless trees and barren wombs. Sticky candy and silent tombs. Magnetic pull. No bull. Earth turns. Apocalypse burns. Lying indigestion lingers. Caressed by arthritic fingers. Total recall. Chain with ball. Remnant trenches where crosses were dragged. Puffed-out chests and soiled sneakers once bragged. Legs with shackles don't dance. We all take our chance. Aiming to win. Enter sin. Hard, prolific lies that condemn. Pinwheels with no breeze to twirl them. Locked door. Keys galore. Pulse quickens. Plot thickens. Life births possibilities and death robs days. Cold, blue steel cuts deeply both ways. Light and darkness can both serenade. Spring-loaded, like a shiny... ... switchblade ... © 2018 PeteFeatured Review
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3 Reviews Added on January 12, 2018 Last Updated on February 3, 2018 AuthorPeteBoston, MAAboutI love reading, writing, music, nature, God and feeling emotion, not necessarily in that order. To me, these things go hand in hand. My favorite writer is Henry David Thoreau. I think he was a geni.. more..Writing
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