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running scar

Here lies a grave,
a conglomerate headstone
without a name
weeds and webs 
wrapped tight around the heartless edge.
Caretaker rides his rusty deer
pretending he's a nascar stud
waking the dead and stirring mud.
He take's his lunch beneath a tree,
eating twinkies with green fingertips...
and for his love he'll steal a wreath,
and place it gently on a grave
that bears a scar called, long forgotten
a grave he calls
"no name".

Copyright © | Year Posted 2011




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Date: 4/13/2013 10:00:00 PM
Anthony, a very nice and awesome poem. Congratulations with your Featured Poem of the week :-). Take care, and enjoy the new week coming up. Always & Forever! GOODNIGHT **LINDA**
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Date: 3/25/2012 8:55:00 PM
It's kind of creepy, I love it <3 -Lily <3
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Date: 9/14/2011 10:16:00 AM
When I lay underground I hope he'll still come around. Like the poem.
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