Number 8 Pencil

I never liked reading poetry all that much, but did enjoy writing it for a brief amount of time. This is a collection of those poems and hopefully will include some yet to be written.

Wednesday, October 19, 2005

Scatter

Hey there Rusty
What did you do
to be placed in such a spot?
She whispers something to me
something I thought I knew
something we all forgot

And my heart is buried here
Scatter my ashes someplace else
Water them with one tear
but keep the rest to yourself

The deerhunter wonders how
it was he who fell one cloudy dawn
and plots are filled
Everything is fine now
I'm told by fragile fawn
and slip on marble pills

Don't dig up my heart
Leave it in this box
and if you want advice that's smart
don't believe the fox

Listen to Rusty and his friend
They lay next to her
the deerhunter and him
She tells me it's not the end
In that we can be sure
Lights on down below while lights above are dimmed

I blinked yesterday
but I didn't cry
The ground had something to say
She tells me she's alive

And I realize the lights never went out
I just flipped some switches
that threw us in the dark
What is it all about?
We can all dig ditches
but it's not where we should park

Scatter my remains
Keep me up above
Everything's the same
Live is made of love

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