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About Me

Jeff Watkins
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Previous Posts

Chevron is German for Beer and Cigarettes For t...
Dont Miss Tomorrow When I Attack the Legalists ...
An Exposition: Driving For Discontentment The s...
Girl, You'll Be A Woman Soon When I grow up, I'...
An Apology It has come to my attention that th...
Profiteer Exploitation of life You make it wha...
Tonight, I Will Sleep Alone. But, Sleeping Alone...
In typical Justin McLeod fashion, I am back to wri...
What's For Breakfast? Nothing. Not yet. I'm s...
Happy Thanksgiving Canada Trying to find work i...


© To Whom It May Concern 2002-2010, except for cited or source material.

 

Friday, October 24, 2003

Literally Figurative

I wait for a new fire
To burn bright inside of me
Rekindling this old flame
That was burned out by brush winds sometime ago
Where will I find this fuel?
That familiar space
A desire that vanished
With the ovation of your newfound hatred
I cannot put this off
I will not hesitate
Without anything else
You never wanted to wait
Fakeness fades out memories
Bitterness burns long and continuous
Hurtfulness helps inviting feelings
But, hate keeps our hearts from healing
I respond to nothing
I ignore the resounding gloom
Assuming it’s done
One million times rerun
Flipping to the index
Reading the end is cheating
Too many times bothered
Fifty-four, I miscounted
After today is gone
The sun will not shine anymore
So as this fire, has left me cold
I blame nobody but myself because I was told

posted by Jeff Watkins at 2:53 PM

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