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Red ink on feathers and stories unwritten
Young kids uneasy and struggling to fit in
Tigers without stripes and birds without wings
These are a few of life’s terrible things

Old Fading sunsets and chased broken dreams
Thick black smoke and slightly shattered schemes
Evil devils who scream at the angle who sings
These are a few of life’s terrible things

Overdose and dying in drunken car crashes
Bottles of champagne and cigarette ashes
Chess without pieces and queens without kings
These are a few of life’s terrible things

When the clouds darken,
When the rain falls,
When I’m feeling low
I simply remember life’s terrible things
Like my shaky hands and love that still stings
…and then I don’t feel so good
play on these are a few of my favorite things
 Oct 2015 Rain in July
xx
Untitled
 Oct 2015 Rain in July
xx
You can't just say you love her
In the wind
Say it in her mouth
And taste her answer
As her words dance on you tongue
And the wind can never take that...

away
you came along in summer when I was blooming,
although,
as the months
went
by
I started loosing my petals
and even though you noticed the absence of them,
you stayed
but with hesitation that I have seen so often before.

as a year went by
you were still here
still hesitating
and then you told me you didn't want me anymore
and I understand
because she has a full set of petals
and I am simply a stem
but you have no idea how difficult it is to stay standing when it rains all the time
 Oct 2015 Rain in July
ThePoet
The innocence in your
nature robbed you 
of all that you ever had

Your pure intentions 
always left you lost
and misunderstood

You used to be a good 
person afraid of all
that was deemed bad

But now you’re a bad
person afraid of all
that was deemed good

©
A wailing ghost has found you.
Foolishy, you hoped to be free.
But that is how it plays with you.
A cat and mouse game, you see.

However did you get as far
In the frosty, wintry night
Without knowing your ache would return?
How could you think you'd be alright?

The haint is on your back,
And chillishly shrilling in your ear.
Maybe you did not bury your deeds deep enough.
Perhaps that is why you fear.

The awesome hatred is poured into your cup.
A spectral accusation never is one in vain
If it closely resembles the truth.
The guilty perish, for crimes that are never named.
The beginning of fall, and the forward momentum toward my favorite holiday, have begun.
 Oct 2015 Rain in July
hellopoet
everyone's got their reasons
even those that say they don't
everyone's got their seasons
whether they live it or won't

our ears are designed to hear
and lips were made to kiss
the batting of your lashes
turns stony hearts to bliss

for a time and half a time
this pen will cease to scribble
until reasons find their clime
then again resume its ripple*



_ _ __✒
●○
°
 Oct 2015 Rain in July
AW Davis
What would I have to say
to make you stay a little longer?
What would I have to do?
I wish I were stronger.

If I said that I loved you,
would you call my bluff?
But if I said I wanted to,
would that be enough?

What would I have to say
for you to finally leave me be?
What would I have to do
for you to finally set me free?

If I said I hated you,
would you call my bluff?
But if I said I wanted to,
would that be enough?

— The End —