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Rated: E · Poetry · Teen · #1254989
Too often my generation is useless. What happens if that changes?
Humorous
isn’t it?
—That
innumerous
so amount the eyes
upon our great skies

—Each,
Behind one
will find a
Bequeath-
ment common for all
yet aiding to fall:

Man
was doomed—
thanks genesis:
Ban
with a fishing line
overhead, dangling your temptation

Restrain
with smile
painted on.
Sustain
this illusion of self-
control: a puppeteer’s fancy

is
all we
amount to!
—Fizz
identity, effused to air
through the head’s holes

…Pause…
Are we
not It?
—Cause
chain reactions in accord
to this reveled line

Such course, requiring motivation—
Oh how seething a word today—
Makes sweet thought’s oxidation
Of the feeble mind, carelessly at play

Think.
Poison can be nourishing,
Depending on what’s poisoned
© Copyright 2007 Blake~almost got scammed! (mytruth_write at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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