Mark Heathcote

Gold Star - 29,965 Points (22/03/66 / Manchester)

All Costs, Without Any Of The Blame - Poem by Mark Heathcote

Guilty, are the pleasures longed for to touch
Burning our fingers on aching calves
When strawberries are just out of the hands clutch.
Every last empty moment fills our epitaphs
Greed's root a palmed hand turned face down
Always takes what it cannot absorb,
All costs, without any of the blame.
Desire is a sin.
But today, there's scarcely any stigma of shame.

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Poem Submitted: Wednesday, January 13, 2016

Poem Edited: Monday, July 24, 2017


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