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Rescue From a Dirty Plot


Ridicule
in poverty
salt to
seething
wounds.

And an invisible
choir begins the
Gregorian chants,
alive
to the point
you can’t
hear your
own heart
collapse.

…Kind words then are spoke
from vulgar mouths
red roses left upon
the unmarked pine
moments before
the potter’s field
collects the last
homage it will
receive

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About hobgoblin2011

I'm a poet and aspiring screenwriter/songwriter with a passion for film, art, photography, philosophy and heavy metal. I love reading, mainly non-fiction, comic books, graphic novels, myth and reference. Family always comes first for me. I'm a proud father to two wonderful pups and two curious cats. I'm also a glutton for punishment aka the life of being a diehard Buffalo Bills and Sabres fan.

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