by JD Haywood
Guilt surrounds me like a shroud
Holding in the stench of death
The death of dreams…the death of innocence
I'm suffocating
They were supposed to be safe
That was my job
To be loved, cherished and protected
The right of every child
My choices, my failures
Created their nightmare
How can I live with that?
February 11, 2009
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February
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- The Champ
- MY SISTER SAYS BUT DOESN’T EVERYONE WASTE THEIR LIFE?
- takes all kinds
- For One Night Only
- Sunday Morning
- All I need to know.
- I kill it.
- bacon lips
- The End of the World.
- Backing out of the parking lot
- Great Russia
- lamb
- THE CAT’S YELP IN BLACK LIGHT
- Bombs Away!
- Stain
- Bill Burroughs
- all those big words
- UPON WAKING UP TOO EARLY
- 10,000 THINGS
- I Don’t Do Much
- IF MY GRANDMOTHER COULD HAVE WRITTEN A POSTCARD TO...
- Failed Suicide
- according to the geneva convention
- Looking for Kerouac
- joe the poet
- Tuesday
- ralph was here
- FAT
- A Mother's Guilt
- The Mirror
- 9 to 5
- another cancer poem
- Genius
- YELLOW ROSES
- Lux Interior -- R.I.P. in Zombie Hell
- Coney Island Bird Girl
- ode to february
- OCTOBER DREAM
- THE QUESTION
- in the interim
- dying alone in a small room while listening to bad...
- BEING JEWISH IN A SMALL TOWN
- the good news is zimbabwe introduced a 50 million ...
- LAP DANCE
- Too much or nothing
- My Home Borough
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