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Posted to Poetry




I only speak when the glass is broken
She seems to listen when true love is spoken

Songs will write their own recognition
While I sit in some old segregation

And the ashes, they fall from grace
Since no one understands my place

Old empty rooms filled with smoke
A broken heater, warm some dying folk

An old time, where junkies run dry
We recognize this savior as only a lie

I only speak when blood runs thin
An amalgamation of whiskey and gin

Some futurist metropolis runs down
With an echo of history’s ancient sound

My eyes see only artificial flavor
Influenced by some manifested savior

The beauty begins to run very black
This poet’s letters, they’ve all been sent back

I only speak when the glass is broken
She seems to listen, when true love is spoken.

(cyoung6)