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Why this sense of loss and betrayal
locked behind prison bars of portrayal?
Intestines writhe, so pining for
relief from the blood that I abhor.

We were born as a fragment of a family
we were childlike, optimistic, and free
but we drifted away, shrewdly snared
in our sight, a chimera flared

The shade instigated hate into flaming
firing hate for themself and then others shaming,
overtaken by bitterness and asp-like venom;
then they call the actual story a lying scam.

It drained your love dry for our matrix too,
who furnished the walls we all once squeezed through,
whose fountains we drank from, some vicious stabbed.
Now, thinking of those as horribly scabbed,

In a barrage of curses, accusations untrue,
though damaged in the heart, only love can guide you
all attempts at inciting outrage have failed
by the spewing of hate, some appeared to prevail.

The flaming fabrication is fast fading,
Shortly, it will be the end of masquerading.
This distracting episode is virtually over.
Fleeing to the branch that once gave us cover.



© --Limericist 2007/2021

illusionaccusationsbroken family

◄ Wooden Bones Were Willing

It Prowls Around ►


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Brian Hodgkinson

Tue 16th Mar 2021 05:20

This is a slightly revised version -- I saw some artifacts I missed from the 2007 version and felt the need to update.

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