Is there really a true love to have,
a lover that cares for oneself,
and all around,
in making life,
not easy,
but manageable,
on sight no never,
come in by,
growth it given,
and emotions follow,
but where it goes from there,
is unsure at best,
yet worth it,
even in pain,
in knowing it won’t,
because one love does not,
wish it so to become,
more than foreplay,
and silence to follow it,
on oh shore,
frozen lake,
trapped below,
the reminder remains lost until spring,
by then,
no one will remember,
there was never a love,
no care,
no pain that carries on the back like a mountain,
were the lifestyle brightens,
only for that,
past mistakes are gone,
and their little offering are all,
that are left,
gone into the smoke,
of greed,
with a sadistic smile,
that some misread as care and compassion for others,
when in truth,
that is not so,
buried under the foulness of sex and money,
there is a new,
fair it now,
a new life running the show,
questionable the party is,
but it plays on,
to where no one cares,
as to why it is happening,
but up in the master bedroom,
the music drowns out,
the crime of the year,
no one will care,
if even glance,
at the one,
splatter with crimson,
it fits the theme of Halloween,
no one cares,
or thinks of the worst,
because of the high,
drowns out logic,
drowns out a life that could have been saved,
yet no one cares,
for the sake,
of living the high,
they’ll never have,
the ploy works,
before and now,
another winter comes,
and secret in the lake,
thick with ice,
lost to time,
until spring of next year,
rocket fuel confident one has,
no fear of what could happen,
only what needs to happen,
a spark will fly high for another year,
before long gone,
plotting the fates,
step by step,
in the world of mindless souls,
who live the lifestyle of fun,
caring little of those,
who can kill the buzz,
not even a glance,
if one drinks lye in a drink,
keeling over,
that person is likely,
just blackout from booze,
and will have a headache later,
another one gone,
because no wanted the fun to stop,
thick in thoughtful equipped ideas,
that are far having holes in them,
they are full proof,
until one slip up,
that’s all it takes,
one slip up,
on cockiness,
sadly though,
how rare is that,
until how many lives are gone,
by the green river,
frozen again for another harsh winter,
what secrets does it hold,
in sought believe that no one will notice,
no one will know,
and for the sake of living a manageable life,
who want to break it,
but in likely,
who wishes to speak with the family and friends,
of the lost love ones,
and do it,
just as heartless as the person,
who took the souls away . . .
certain lifestyles shouldn’t be,
what makes a different,
a life is a life,
no matter the background,
and all get their ends,
some just harsher than others,
those who were taken away,
know it,
but their love ones see,
the person who did,
only gets a slap,
one slap on the wrist,
is that fair?

 

 

 

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