Originally this was written January 2012, and this poem for some reason happened to be my most successful odd poem on the site that it was originally on.
I’ll post it here now, in all of its 2013 glory.
The ransacked, ravaged, pillaged daughter weeping
she talks and walks the whimsical traviatarie .
With a sack full of rocks stringed to her Sunday shoe,
She plans to see them stars by the lake with the moon.
OH, PRAISE THE HELLALUJAH!
When your born on the sinner’s season,
And all you gotta do is to go down.
Become an example of Lord Jesus,
The priest he’ll hoist your sad life –on the cross.
The water was wet and bleak like winter’s morning,
She stood there feeling all her rippling tears–
as she tried the withering cold stones with her toes.
Wisps and nightmares were dancing in her eyes
And she could not stand a lifetime at the Devil’s side.
Lord Lord Lord,
Satan came camping at her door.
He took these serpents of pure evil,
set them and provoked them–
to slither within her poor an’ mangled brain.
As the girl sunk into the cavern of her desperation.
Her lungs started to fill with gleaming diamonds and gold,
Gasps of terror-filled her mind, she stretched out one pleading hand
but it was too late and to the bottom of the lake she went straight.
there she watches the summer children swim with her beauty all Bloated and blue.