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There's something about the rain
that brings comfort from the pain.

That washes away the tears,
or at least masks their stains.

That chills a burning heart,
numbs the throbbing pain
turning the world blue in solidarity.

Do the angels cry with you?

Sometimes it seems they do,
as we lift our heads for Clarity.

Smiling through the pain
for there's something about the rain,
and in knowing the world is crying with you!
Just something that came to me today
 5d Zeno
matt r
,                 like a lantern;
She had no answer for
You.           I understand
the glowbugs & fireflies
,they fill the fields around
Your home,        but You
are crystal clear to Me.

My hands are cracked,dry
for a gift. hold Them & see
there is nothing beneath
Us at all.   there is no push
or permission to fall;
You step,              & hope,
             & I will be there,

swimming in the creek of
all We are yet to happen.
     I raised a Prayer,untied
& spoken,     to a balloon;
She will drift into power
lines,She will
             buckle your day.
I was starving in
Pennsylvania.
One night, I had
enough.
Done with it all.
The poverty and
sickness.
The drunken mad
nights
and dog-fight days.
Brutality for breakfast.
Served sunny side up
runny yolks with
butterflies trapped in
the yellow sunshine.
Spiders built webs in
my soul.

I stood on the torn-up
couch in my living room and
yelled at the walls.

Listen, you devil.
You want me, you better be
ready for a fight.
I paced the floor like a
washed-up heavyweight champ,
eyeing the ceiling like a
drunken sparrow in a cat's mouth.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8k5NY8ZMx3I
Here is a link to my YouTube channel, where I read poetry from my recently published books, Seedy Town Blues Collected Poems and It's Just a Hop, Skip, and Jump to the Madhouse, available on Amazon.

www.thomaswcase.com
God answers the prayers
I don’t remember praying.
My prayers are just stepping
stones to a better reality.
If I die this year I’d feel that
way about my last prayer.
My bitterness will stop injecting
itself into my fantasies.
My butterflies grow obese
because of the magic.
I’ll keep trying to grow
past all of this tragic.
I’ll stop living everyday as if
it’s  already the future.
It makes my Time Machine
into a ready guillotine.
My depression and happiness
hug for the first time.
They have not been intimate
long enough it seems.
former accounts name is girlrinth
Cool morning shadow
Along a park’s wooded lane
Honeysuckle blooms
I apologize to those who were wrongly laid to rest,
To any graves where blood is still wet.
I respect those who survived,
Even in the face of adversity.
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