That Time For Announcing A Thankful Heart

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That time for announcing a thankful heart
Admittedly, I’m luckier than I could know
I’m grateful for a cozy home to return to
She’s statuesque; putting on a show
A very fine ensemble with cleavage peeking
I can tell they’re lonely, in need of my kisses
Alas, it’s not the time for anything more
She’s busy, my housewife, my missus
But up her shirt I slowly slither
This wasn’t the next task she had planned
But it’s rather chilly outside
How else shall I warm my cold hands

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We Used To Know The Truths

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We used to know the truths
The fundamentals of our lives
Misplaced inspiration in youth
We, the lost children, who survived
Abandoned by artists searching for gold
Forgetting the dream of accepting yourself
Never admitting we’ve grown this old
Rejection of impending imperial wealth
Fuck your Republicans & Democrats
Those who sold the vision with betrayal
Insensitive bastards of the Cheshire Cat
Unsteady appeasement & divided we fail

The Antithesis Of Perfection

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The antithesis of perfection
My own struggles lie deep and dank
Not one to remain in the mire
Happiness has misery to thank
Living my life with my own experiences
Not to be judged nor remotely compared
One must find their soul’s own truth
When you admit your failings, life can be repaired

I’m Pounding These Keys

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I’m pounding these keys

Trying to create a landmark

Something to last through time

A rhyme to set off a sudden spark

I’m vain in ways I won’t admit

A schedule of words upon the page

Formulas/equations for me to disconnect

Memories for after I’ve withered into age

Can You Tell How I Feel About You

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Can you tell how I feel about you
These sex rhymes infecting my brain
I can’t focus on anything else, Lady
I admit I objectify you with all that remains
Your beauty confuses my neurons
It doesn’t help when you begin to wink
I begin to stutter, my words useless
I blush; no longer any hope to think

A Dizzying Cabaret

mask-715782A dizzying cabaret
Pouring wine from the fountain
A festival of lost souls
Chandeliers upon the mountain
Whisper to me in the gales
I’ll surely hear your heart’s song
A masquerade – I desire you
Though admit, this isn’t where I belong

The John Wayne Type

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I admit I’m not the John Wayne type
I’m not one who wants to fight
Though, I’m not afraid of confrontations
I’d just love rather love my woman by candlelight
I’m a sensitive soul
I’ve been called needy, immature & worse
I just want the time to write of my emotions
Creating a universe into which we’ll fully immerse