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Paper Tear Echoes'of his tirade came screeching through the contented night like a stinging slap on soft skin, his maligning an unexpected exhibition of madness, from depths of indulged intemperance. The lashing words embellished his sense of indignity, but compromised the gentle stroke of his spirit's hand. His ranting of red ink, a paper tear on the page that tells the story of the man who forgot, when he cried. The pretender walks alongside the ambiguity of his destiny,ignoring the silence of raging winds, his countenance a delicate balance, unfaithful, hidden from all but the knowing stranger. The days reveal a face bewildered in it's complexities, his longing for love, a smile's breath on his cheek. His answer, a simple reach into the back pocket that keeps safe the memories' of his mother's sweet kiss. |
Additional Notes:
My mother always said; "if you can't say anything nice, well don't say anything at all". I think that was an old adage from the book of mother sayings, but should include those nasty angry letters sent off in the heat of the moment. If you've ever been the recipent of one of those you'll appreciate this piece.
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