Poems from thelastplasmabender

If only I could live But Happily Ever After Is a myth in itself.
Like gnarled fingers from the grave Reaching out to kill the brave The twisted roots bend and curl.   Into the sleep from which one never...
Don't you hate it- 'Cause I know I do- When someone throws out Something by you?   See, I had a list made Of ideas to write, When someone...
The itch began down on my knee, And from that spot crawled all over me, It jumped to my arm, Then moved safe from all harm, To that place...
It trips and then falls The spark from the cloud carpet Lights its startled face.

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