RhymeMosaic

Meter, Metaphor, Memory + Meaning

Poetry by Brandon WordSmith — exploring love, loss, faith, and the human experience. The site loads its full interactive experience with JavaScript; what follows is the readable text version.

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Founder's Canon

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cut my feet so that every step will be a reminder of who I am

Voices in my head talk me off to sleep, as tears fall down my cheek I am nothing without the Beauty that lives in the sky Diamonds can’t be broken, so why even try It’s a lie that belies the greatest of fears I’m talking tears, spheres, and a few beers That’s right, I’m yelling, excelling and telling that I’m failing Laugh about it for sure, you perv, this is what you deserve I’m leaving you a note as a joke, then I speed off in my boat So I gloat, smoke, choke, and take it down my throat Murder I wrote with my thumb, drinking red rum I’m dumb, young, and looking to come To a place face to face with disgrace to erase All the shapes and escapes that are fueling these rapes Of myself, place a belt on my shelf and you say That today I have made you so mad you could pray And the worst part, my heart, has turned into a dream So I start to take part in the Messenger’s screams So you lift all your voices so high as you cry And each frequency gives you a reason to die So we sing and we dance as we tune and we laugh Ev’rything is so plain in this moon carved in half So I cut out a smile and put my lips through I have found just the one for my mask’s Superglue

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