Please, release them, let them go
press enter and print, so we will know
The filthy secrets Donald keeps
Please, release them, expose the dirty creeps
Donald Trump is running scared
of secrets he and Jeffrey shared
Their reign of terror decades long
lucky for Donald, Jeff is gone
For dead men tell no tales or lies
but spirits hover and survive
And so the Epstein ghost lives on
to haunt and torment, dirty Don
It threatens to expose their crimes
the many girls, so many times
The lives they broke, the damage done
and how two monsters had their fun
So please, release the Epstein files
the hidden names, the evil smiles
Expose the players in this stew
and give these devils, both their due
Dead men tell no tales,
Broken men seal their soul,
Dead men set no sails,
Broken men fear no shoals.
I
a wanderer,
journey through three planes,
searching for where to call mine.
Lost in a belligerent and transient world, I
D
E
S
C
E
N
D
to an infernal region
where dead men tell no tales.
Words transmit like waves
and movement is as swift as light.
Silent as the foot of time in daylight
Lively and cheery at moonlight.
But!
In this soul, I cannot dwell,
for I have no right to mere men.
Weak and weary,
I struggle and triumph.
Like a flash, I
T
R
A
N
S
C
E
N
D
and become one with sweet souls.
Charming and alluring
I am enticed by their smiles.
To whom do I belong?
Where do I fit in?
Until I find my home
The search continues in my afterlife.
Dead men tell no tales
Yet the skulls like to move
Dreaded words get whispered
As they long to prove
Dead men tell no tales
Yet they haunt the living
Muttering their secrets
And never forgiving
Dead men tell my secrets
As they testify against me
Irrefutable evidence
To never let me be free
Dead men tell no tales
I claim to the jury
You would use the words of a skull
To willingly condemn me
There seems so little point in killing one
Whose only crime is to heal
But when he calls you a hypocrite - a whitewashed tomb
And deep inside you feel
That wrong or right, his power is more than yours
You've got to serve him or kill him
Choose him or lose him.
Fumbled and mismanaged, no one wants
To actually do the deed
Fob him off on Pilate, or Herod; they try not to get involved
But finally in pressure it's agreed
To give him up, although for what we don't quite know
Quickly bundle him on a cross
And see if he'll die.
That'll stop it all then, the whole thing will go
A nine - days wonder, blow itself out
Dead men tell no tales and do not pose a threat
Or introduce a doubt
In an empty form that one time made you feel secure
Preserve your dignity
Lose your integrity
It didn't stop it all though did it?
The ripples of his life still spread
People still believe and live as if his paradoxes work
And he isn't really dead
And he still stirs up something in this day
Which try as you will
You can't kill.
No, I did nay walk the cold harbour docks
Felt too tipsy and fell in the drink
Drank too much as the ticker in me tocks
Dead men tell no tales in the blink
Eyes patched over me hardy, yar, flows
The wine inta piss, my heart inta bliss
Rows the dead man telling no tales
Rows the dead man drinkin those ales
Three to tha wind laddies, heave ho
I'm nay walkin home, I can't go.
in heaven streets are paved with gold so these streets must be hell
cause they're paved with shells dead men tell no tales
of how they got slain
intense screams of pain
lives thrown away can't return like boomerangs
when crack came it took the status quo and flipped it
made broke men to rich men and rich men welfare recipients
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.