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A mind is a terrible thing to waste.

by Jared Orlando

I dig dark desolate days,
the wet whimsical winds of wonder,
An amphibious amplitude aching.
I've ignored incoming inquiries,
Blasphemed blissful bishops and burned.
Tomorrow's tombs and today's tangled tabernacle,
I've cared constantly for charismatic critics,
Dreamed for days during dangerous deeds,
Falling for fools with fluttering faces.
Girl's giving graces;
Angel's antagony;
Love's lies.

09/21/2008

Posted on 09/21/2008
Copyright © 2024 Jared Orlando

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Kristi Paik on 09/23/08 at 06:06 PM

This is beautiful Jared. I know EXACTLY how you feel :) great piece.

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