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So close to being a thought.

by Johnny Crimson

Exhaling inside a gas mask
the hot breath snaps back on my face.
A glue I've been denying,
this seal can never be erased.

For my fate here is eternal
on the outskirts of your door.
Never will we breathe the same air,
makes me wonder what it's for.

I've seen you smile like a poor man,
with a bottle and a grin.
I've heard the cackles from the basement,
I know you're grinding into sin.

Even murderers have second chances,
but I'm still looking for my first.
And I'm disgusted by her actions,
but the screams entice my thirst.

11/28/2009

Author's Note: So I'll wait.

Posted on 11/28/2009
Copyright © 2025 Johnny Crimson

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Glenn Currier on 11/30/09 at 05:58 PM

I got almost all the way through this before I noticed the rhymes(I consider that a compliment). And they made me re-read and then I picked up even more meaning and meter. So much to think about here. Glad I WILL have a second chance. Brilliant!

Posted by Nanette Bellman on 12/01/09 at 06:21 AM

If Hannibal Lector wrote a children's book or was re-incarnated as Dr. Suess, this is what he'd write.

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