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Gutless (Free verse) by temptalia
beneath empty hands i gently weep the overcast of darkened skies further cloud my vision blurred by fastly gathering tears. solemnly, i waste my mind wondering repenting my sins, nursing broken ideals with the consolation prize i've yet to find for the soul-selling swine i've become. ruptured veins that spill tranquility bringing sweeping spells that dizzy the head and nauseate the body but placate urgings and the repressed longings. disturbance lays beyond the doorstep knocking with a firm fist--a steady hand with nails that breach well-made barriers fingertips brushing against finality's ego. stroking a fire that sparks the return and the triggers the kind cocking of steel a barrel dropped and a finger delayed and left me spilling--wrenching guts i still don't have.

Up the ladder: A-Team #2
Down the ladder: 25 mg

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Arithmetic Mean: 5.6666665
Weighted score: 5.3333335
Overall Rank: 3487
Posted: October 3, 2002 7:25 PM PDT; Last modified: October 3, 2002 7:25 PM PDT
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Comments:
[7] Service @ 211.28.96.5 | 3-Oct-02/9:47 PM | Reply
Very raw, i get the picture. That is the mark of a poet after all isn't it?
[5] cleverdevice @ 212.219.142.161 | 22-Oct-02/5:17 AM | Reply
Good, except a whole poem about a gunshot? If it were dedicated to someone who had been shot for a good cause it would be very good. However with no personal background it is a bit boring. It would be better if we knew the person who had been shot.
[7] -=SeTTle=- @ 140.186.49.69 | 27-Oct-02/7:04 PM | Reply
ha ha love the title. I suppose being gutless you also be anusless.
[8] horus8 @ 24.126.113.154 | 16-Jan-03/9:55 PM | Reply
i don't know about you cats, but selling swine, and cocking back steel, gets it for me every fucking time..YEE HAW! 8 a swell read.
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