Dust to Dust
Blame the world for you heart’s weakness
For it tempts you with its richness
If you lived within four walls
Never would you take its falls.
Blame the author of this poem
I had been your jeroboam
Lived as though each day was last
And you envied. Dust to dust.
You could not have hurt my feelings.
True, I’ve never done these dealings
Stayed away from that fine line
That you didn’t want defined.
True my ignorance was blissful
And your thoughts were dark and sinful.
Not one word to hold you down
Though in past we both can drown
But know this, without you
Nothing old will start anew.
September 6, 2007
“Et tut, Brute?” he asked so meekly
for she had too turned into fiend.
Whatever happened to sick sweetness?
My, my how things are quick to change.
A rattle snake will share her niceness,
He realized alas too late,
For just like her, its tell-tale rattle
Will tell of coming of the fangs.
She left him bleeding in the hallway,
The knife to handle in his back.
And yet he stood, so proud and dignant
While he was walked on by the rest.
He fumed and raged and thundered greatly
But all in silence. Not a word…
And then upon some whim of broken,
A smile broke upon his face.
She was surprised. He was still standing.
What could he have up in his sleeve?
His chin was raised and eyes inclined.
He spoke to her with sweetened rhyme.
“All is too bad, my dearest darling.
I hope that hell ‘ll be to your liking
Because upon my name I swear
We’ll meet again, no where but there.”
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18.09.2007 в 11:27i mean it)
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23.09.2007 в 06:16