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Showing posts from May, 2017

Suicide

a yellow breasted bird on an old fruit tree fluttered its wings as it left what a sight to be seen; for a man such as thee on the tip of his very last breath
alas nothing grew in the garden again, not a flower; not even a weed nothing but a stone, and a wreck of a home and the roots of an old fruit tree but a day it would come, when as yellow as the sun, fell a feather from a little bird's breast for above it did flutter; with no quiver or stutter where the man and the tree lay at rest

suicide ₢2017 c.seanmcgee

Pé na Cova (one foot in the grave)

"Why wait?" I said. "Why hesitate? "What good is one day from another?" You just laughed, and slapped my back; "That's a good one," you said. "That's a real good one, my brother." And so we drank to all our worries, And we drank to all the blues. And the sun it rose in a miserable light, As we drank to all of the truths. The truths we had forgotten, And those we'd rather forget. To the ones which proclaimed us a villains, And to those which we owe a great debt. And so we drank to the end of times, To love and its inevitable end. And we stumbled off home in the wee hours of dawn, Just a prick and his miserable friend.

One Foot in the Grave C.SeanGee ₢2017