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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Emotional · #2195462
He desperately needs a place to hide.
He killed imagination;
now he hides from danger.
Creative blood complication,
highways awash in red, 
traffic all backed up,
highway patrol on alert.
All points bulletin for
Imagination Slayer,
arrogant choker
of mind-burst 
adrenaline surge,
thoughts today
paradise lost, mirrors
blackened out, reflection
censored.
Mindless mapless
purloiner, stumbler
dismisser, law-less
vagabond shame.
Now you must hide 
lest human spirit
soars again
to lever lead
chains off thoughts
bewildered by wraps
of captive.  It is carnage in
an upright world, by a spewing
messing with want—unable,
being stabbed in the back. 
Of ruins, imprisonment. 
Killer, hide clever,
sit lotus-like, or curl
into ball and flow
to vanishing.
We will find you, for 
there is no place to hide. 
Slay imagination and
you slaughter the living,
you betray life and lose
your right to a place.


40 Lines
Writer’s Cramp 
7-11-19
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