Without Malice,6/26/10 Poem by Ryan Cole

Without Malice,6/26/10



There is no malice in her
All the little wounds she brings
are accidental or providential,
but always inadvertent
symptoms of her misery
And yet I die from a thousand little cuts
but somehow continue to breathe
To walk, to work, to sleep
or not to sleep,
perchance to dream
Living on, if dead
wondering
Is this Hell...
or just the rest of my life

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Ryan Cole

Ryan Cole

Santa Monica, California
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