D:E:1

D:E:1

A Poem by T. K. Sjostrom

 The ocean stretches onwards, outwards, inwards of itself.
Filled with waste from the city slowly chewing it up.
The people churning inside the beast waiting for the previous day to attack.
Bulging buildings lean against one another for support.
Clear streets and clean sidewalks offset the nature of this place.
The trees expand farther up than ever before.
Taller than even the rivals of these today.
Blades of grass scatter at the sound of voices.
Retreating to the fields of human extinction.
The animals of these desolate woods have no meat.
Vivid pictures of bones embossed on their pelts.
No pupils.
The blue brown waters ripple vaguely against a dark reflection.
A dark reflection of a darkening sun.
Which, in fact, is setting for its last time.

© 2009 T. K. Sjostrom


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The end of the world is nie, your choice of words and descriptive passages are thought provoking solemn and immensely creative.
It sucks living in a place without money but i think it is worse when you have a girlfriend and she wants this and that and doesn't buy the idea of window shopping.

My city is painful to live in without money LONDON can ern you a crust though as work is plentiful for those idol hands that seek it.
You name is swedish and related to one of those millions of swedes who emigrated to your country over 150 years ago.

Posted 15 Years Ago



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Added on June 23, 2009

Author

T. K. Sjostrom
T. K. Sjostrom

Houston, TX



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