Suicidal Ser?

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Suicidal Ser?

When to care and when to not?
When you start to fade away
in to a hot steaming bowl
and see the gun of Hemingway
calling your name in a steady call

on the battlefield, of those many wars won
but the price never was fully gained
never with a victory taste
never with an open light
that would make you feel better after all

not even friends can make you detour
of a road already travelled, a road bleak and strange
that sometimes will make you feel safe
knowing you wont get out, or better
wont awake when that call is made

Forgive the words, the rhyme that is not
a chant of delusion, a song that is lost.
A smile that has diluted in to our modern world
a society that pushes your limits to the fall
makes you wonder, when to care and when to not.


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Poetry is either something that lives like fire inside you or else it is nothing, an empty formalized bore around which pedants can endlessly drone their notes and explanations.

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Revlon’s Poems (10)

Title Comments
Title Comments
Suicidal Ser? 0
Mouth 0
Comfortable Silence 0
Games, lights, pills and alcohol 0
Maybe is not there? 0
A Day in that Road 0
The Kiss 0
Waiting 0
To her 0
Vodka Tonic 0