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Silence...The serene motion of wavesA cool, gentle breeze flows through my headMy eyes gaze at endless skiesHaunting eyesA cat Purring her wealthSnakeskin mandolinPulling strings of hateMasturbateCastrateAsphyxiate...I can't breathe anymoreThey haunt my dreams and visionsFreedom lies in youthWe are never really freeOnly the young can truly liveOnly the old can truly see
Copyright © 1985 Sean P. Pratt, all rights reserved
The Origin Story: This poem was taken from one of my art pads during my Lost years. I always preferred to have rhymes and meter in my poems. Some poems I do try a bit too hard to make it fit within the poem's theme, but if you read through it and open your mind to the poem, you will see what I imagined, felt, and saw. When this poem was written I was heavily influenced by Jim Morrison, Arthur Rimbaud, and William Blake.