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About This Poem
Rain Painted Rose
dont we all
live
deep within the walls
of a
rain painted rose
rosey
moments once fresh are set ablaze
whose bones are jewel encrusted
with
decays
within our deepest reds
the scent of saints and dreams are
bled
glancing off a soul of glass
so very briefly glowing off the face-
as every breath tends to climb toward light
reaching the softest edge giving away..
tumbling down
a stairwell of thorns-
the clowns of living cycling
round and round a face forelorn
turned to dreamware we're juggled
(dented circus pins)
between hell and hope..less
the kiln of god
the devils twisted rope-
dont we all
live within the walls
of a
rain painted
rose
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