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D.D. (for Ashley
Dark in Charleston. The rain
throwing itself to the street.
Each drop a Southern hussy
Falling carelessly
that they might be as drunk
as she is. Stumbling,
arm around my shoulder.
The other hand pointing
towards some other party
like a pirate points to land
but I see no haven.
She sticks her tongue out
catching no drops
and I feel my eyes water
not only from the smell of warm beer
on my dress, but because
I remember a girl so alive.
And now I am watching her
dig her grave
With a silver spoon.
Do I also dig?
DO I bear the blame?
Sister, feel the rain.
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This article has 10 comments.
wow...That's really good. i think you should try helping her, btw. but that just me.
GREAT POEM!