Tattoos in Mayberry

52,317 poems read

You must be some other man's warmth by the fire.
Another boy's shot at going over the Moon.
Reach out to me, I'll feed your disease.
When your heart strings are at war
with an uneasy peace.
Earth father bleeds to be planting his seed.
Love is a chess game.
To win you must flush out the other man's queen.
Have the one you choose say they love you and mean it.
You'd kill fire breathing dragons if you could believe it
but, you suspect it's an elaborate lie.
Their words reflecting only
what comes back into their light.
Still, you grovel like a beggar
for just one more night
One more bite.
one more cry.
One more sigh.
Love can be a chiseler
when resolve becomes weak.
and no truce can be reached.
We feed our disease.
Sift through the dirt and sand
in oceans of grief
Bathe in the hunger of need.
Hold on,I'm coming
to give you cover
 sanctuary to
Hide you  from 
sneak attacking,
blind siding,chess masters
Keep safe what's left standing
of your retreating army.

when all seems for naught
and prayers are unanswered
Might I be called on to intervene.
Before the Kings men
are storming your gates 
and are upon you
flushing you

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Flushing My Queen