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Author Name: Adminrich53 8 Comments
Date Added: January 19, 2006 12:01:50 Average Score: (Needs 2)
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Type: Unspecified
Category: Horror Add To Favorites | Text Only
 
Never, Comes


Up seems down.
Right, wrong.
Nice is so hard.

Sunrise chills.
Luminous shadows rise.
The full moon burns.

Focus she.
Molecules me,
Dispersed away.

Equation lost.
Gravity undependable.
Despair denied.

Night indefinite,
The day runs on.
Never, comes.

Author's Notes:

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Comments:
Comment By: FreeLeila on April 20, 2010 10:45:45 PM Report
As I am not an English-speaking one , I learend a lot from your poems. Thanks.
Comment By: FreeLeonard Wilson on May 19, 2009 07:09:14 PM Report
Sounds like the dark side of the other side of the looking glass, Rich...When the full moon burns and gravity can't be depended on, reality is a shaky place....len
Comment By: FreeCindy Bendel on February 1, 2006 07:47:25 PM Report
Now I remember why I love your work so much Rich...you seem to whip up more that just poetry when you write...a chemical mix where emotion, depth, and angst collide. Love it. Give me more!
~Cindy
Comment By: PremiumMary Lou Allen on January 24, 2006 08:03:31 PM Report
As a description of chaos this powerhouse seems perfectly clear to me. I know this place and I don't want to go there again. Very aptly titled, Rich. Good work. ML
Comment By: FreeJoe Petro on January 20, 2006 09:21:46 PM Report
Night infinite is only a shock to the emotions. Day light does follow. Very expressive poem Sir. jp
Comment By: FreeMichael on January 19, 2006 11:43:05 PM Report
Rich, from one who has been there and done that, believe me, the darkest hour is just before dawn. Be well, Michael
Comment By: FreeGlata on January 19, 2006 07:25:51 PM Report
Sometimes confusion can be wonderful inspiration, Richard...You've done wonderful with this, and I hope that you get things on track in your head soon. Best of luck and hang in there.
Glata
Comment By: FreeThe Bag Lady on January 19, 2006 05:00:58 PM Report
Well, my poetic friend, when things are 'discombobbled', so to speak, then words pour from poets' pens~ When emotions strike us in the heart and soul, then writing sometimes is the only way to heal~ This is stark, and quite chilling, Rich---May you have a glimmer of joy, soon~!
The Bag Lady...
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