Coming out of the cemetry,
Faith, does not tell you the truth.
Becomes chaste innocence,
Of imbeciles.
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good poem......keep writing..... afraid of whom as there all are... human as you and me so why afraid of whom..... wonderful expression of life truth...... thanks for sharing 10++
Perhaps you question life? Or perhaps you question death? Your words eloquent and true, How profound, how rich, I'm just speechless.....
Would one wish the mortician was a necrophiliac when their twin's heart stops counting time? One last dance, one last cold glance in the mirror. To be shattered isn't a shame. Facts creep out of the ground sometimes, after having put so many to rest.