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Showing posts from December, 2016

PICTURE POETRY: BLIND CYCLE

Artist: Anonymous Poem by Mide Benedict Red eyes does not mean pain, Does not mean sorrow That comes from another's hand. It may be that you denied sleep Of its night food and now your eyes are red. But when the eyes are red And cheeks are swollen Like water tubes about to bust open Then one of your ribs, broken Your once sexy lips, open And your bum sits outside of your house On the tiled floor Hoping that a voice would call out your name And tell you to come in and feed his pleasure Then that is the pain you didn't cause But rather chose to remain in till death do you part. Wait, do you know... I don't think so That in this your love affair, Death died a long time ago And has been buried in an unmarked place So the death you seek in your vow to do you part Is a knownless life that has no breath in its lungs. Break the chain! “But I choose to remain, you can let...” ‘No, just break the chain!' All your life, you've had that dream T