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Blood Red Roses

Blood red roses,
For my sweet love.
Blood red roses,
Seen from above,
Blood red roses,
Dripping with dew.
Blood red roses,
All bought just for you.
Blood red roses,
In your cold fingers.
Blood red roses,
How their scent lingers.
Blood red roses,
On this black day.
Blood red roses,
Around you lay.
With blood red roses,
Upon her chest.
Now my love,
Is laid to rest.

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My Salvation

Many times in my life I have been called a “rescuer”. Accused of always looking for a damsel in distress. This was infuriating to my ex-wife, and is often times infuriating to my friends still to this day. I will admit that at times my “knight in shining armor” personality has brought some less than desirable people into my life. Her and my friends have never been able to understand these “projects” as my ex-wife would call them, mean the world to me. They need help, they are begging for someone to care.. I know how that feels. Far to often in my life I have begged for someone to save me.. Save me from someone else.. Save me from my thoughts, my urges, and myself. No one ever came, no one heard my pleas.. My cries of agony fell on deaf ears and my tears went unnoticed.. Much like the bleeding wounds on my flesh. So I cannot bring myself to turn my back on someone in need of help. I find my salvation in saving others from becoming like me. If my kind words can bring even the briefest smile to the lips of someone in pain.. That brings a smile to my own lips. The down side of this is that when I am no longer needed I am cast aside like a shirt that is no longer in style. These people leave me and go out into the world, they take a piece of me with them. I am less than I once was upon losing them. So even in my salvation I still find my destruction.

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