Sewer of Life
I've heard the smell there is Hell
only your friend/enemy...trades tainted money
Bodies are bought/sold...with/out... knowledge/permission
Souls are left damaged/bruised...repaired/ripe...
I feel the scar of broken dreams on the stench of bad breath
foul-fools only to the weak of hearts and wounded minds!
I hear the cry from a tribe who never show fear...
among a twisted smile/back-hander
Devil in disguise...
a dime a dozen in the sewer of life.
I know who/what you've been up to..your dirty dealings will be for all to see
you think a blind eye can be turned to your murky dealings
the bones of my hand will show the blueprint of your true colors
Let the record show
' My soul is not for sale'.
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Comments about this poem (Sewer of Life by Martina Moriarty )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
William Butler Yeats
(13 June 1865 – 28 January 1939)
(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
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