Thursday, June 30, 2011



Broken, yes, my spirit is broken,
words no longer flow
with ease.  Death courts me insistently.
Lays its head on my lap and says:  Drink these pills.
I resist because dreams surround
my heart.  But I am weakened by its mystery,
its charming voice:  it is better
in the long run.  There will be no more pain.

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