Tuesday, March 17, 2009

The Newark Four

Sit and stare
into bare of ocean.
On the dock
all a mock
install the shock.
There's a girl I know
says she's down, but no
thinks he's clown so
she said bye.
My friend stands by,
nothing but wait and listen.
Taking in with hate of her byes definition.
I've seen I'm hope.
Like the soap to clean the cut,
I see no sheen and everything
should be right, though it's not.
Sought- for the answer
to go and help them.
Show the ace from up my sleeve,
give them something to believe.
The third person who's seemed to leave,
is her friend.
I meant to mend,
but instead-
it's all pretend.
We are four,
not from before
instead we are...
just folklore.

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