Orange
Across the miles
Between my head
And my heart
I travel over pain.
Life is much simpler
Once you are dead.
There are no abstracts
Of portraits painted in
Bright blue,
No twisted truths
To Picasso & Van Gogh
Simply put, death becomes me
Vibrant orange beams of light
Shining thru the darkness of the days
Confronted by the notion that
I will rise again.
My head
Hurts no more
My heart
Feels no more
Myself
No more.
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