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Rated: 18+ · Poetry · Cultural · #1413013
When I first realized the world was NOT a nice place, I wrote this.
"The Memorial"

As I walked on in darkness
One evening down Carroll street
The shadows behind the windows
Were demons at the heels of my feet

And far, far off in the distance
Where few do seldom go
I've watched them dance in the moonlight
Sending secrets to and fro

Behind the locked doors of the city
Their plans begin to unfold
Beneath this blanket of neon
The future will be bought and sold

Down by the railroad at Oakey
In the shadows of cardboard cabanas
Zombies appraise their victims
The shedding of innocent blood

For the wolves have a'massed in their fury
The "marks" too, have all been assigned
Terminally precise in their duties
'Round about like clock-work at times

The clock tic-tocs without mercy
And our days are all kin to the last
Although you've been freed by the future
You're still convicted by your past

Footsteps did fallow me closer
The guilt it plays back in my head
And the case which the've waged against me
Has opened a door to the land of the dead.

Copyright. 1994 S.L. Schofield
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