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Poetry News Post #981

Yes - Bushes Do Rustle

Written by: Wyll
Date: Sunday, February 12th, 2017
Addressed to: Everyone


To my temple, the temptress, she lures with her song
Tough thoughts for the soughtful, her odds are all wrong
No whistles, but flared bristles, yes - bushes do rustle
Laud lips, a man's slip, new life for the hustle

Another chance, perchance, a second date and dance
To live anew, with you - wheel, a lovely crude romance
But the fate that awaits, is one of great cost
My sanity, insanity, a normal existence lost

Unsaved and unshaved, I stumble lost and spent
Just one more go, be bold, a fortune came and went
But for you, my muse, I cannot refuse, another electric touch
Sold all the things, sold all the rings, this addict's had too much

Yet little returned, as assets burned, and so one withers away
As others sin and others win, she keeps my heart at bay
A little sorrow, but come tomorrow, for one more go at me
'No, wheel,' I say, 'be still,' and let this soul be free

Penned by my hand on the 2nd of Solis, in the year 127 AM.


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