WASTELAND

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  • Death

    WASTELAND

    the
    heart is cold
    all the life is gone
    the flesh eaten
    from the bones
    dead to the world
    you
    are a wasteland

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    Poetry is not an expression of the party line. It's that time of night, lying in bed, thinking what you really think, making the private world public, that's what the poet does.

    Allen Ginsberg (1926-1997) U.S. poet.

    aparramore’s Poems (25)

    Title Comments
    Title Comments
    I NEED YOU 0
    I KNOCK ON YOUR DOOR 0
    I CAN'T HOLD ON ANYMORE 1
    THE LIGHT IN THE DARKNESS 0
    LOOK UP 1
    BLACK WORMS 1
    SO LONELY 0
    NOT IN CONTROL 0
    BLACKNESS 0
    ALL THE WORLD IS INSANE 1
    FUTURE 0
    IMMORTAL WHISPERS 1
    DEAD WITHOUT YOU 0
    TEARS NO LONGER FLOW 0
    COLD WINTER 1
    WASTELAND 0
    I AM THE VICTIM 0
    I SCREAM DO YOU HEAR ME 2
    SOMETIMES 0
    DRIVING 0
    TEARS FROM THE SOUL 0
    PAINTING ON EMPTY CANVAS 0
    NOTHING IS THERE 1
    Slowly 0
    Drink From me 2