~ Patrick


Last OfferingI left the city Headed out cup of hot coffee In the holder Dog asleep in the back Air cool Sky gray A mist of Rain coated my Windsheild As I droveLast Offering
the buildings Gave Way To Flora Trees On fire Explosions Autumn colors Reds Yellows Oranges Purples Just looking at them Made me feel Warm I smiled Their last offering Is their Brightest We notice them Most Upon their Death Not Unlike Our Loved Ones


Still BreathingI woke up this morning I wasStill Breathing
Still breathing You walked away You took it
all With
you I thought of you Leaving I was Still breathing I watched as the blood Left a trail From where my
Heart used to be Remnants of a love Now Gone I was Still breathing Minutes turned to Hours to Days to Weeks to Months I was Still breathing You left my Emotions in Ruins Kept stabbing
Even after It Was Dead I was Still bre
by ^kkart
by `chilipalmer
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To do a dull thing with style-now THAT'S what I call art. -
Charles Bukowski
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time to ride
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I've got a strong urge to fly, but I've got nowhere to fly to.
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Your life is defined by its opportunities... even the ones you miss.
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To do a dull thing with style-now THAT'S what I call art. -
Charles Bukowski
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<insert signature here>
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