- Drunken Talkers
-C. Taylor
Shed the skin,
the worn face
Leave it in it's dark place
Pull apart the folds - Step into the new from old
- I am tired of your mindless chatter
I am bored of your smoky laughter
Minds of charred coal
No fire in your souls
Shoot me down as I fly, would you?
My light will burn your feeble eyes
Mindless, on and on you ramble
You say nothing substantial
The layers have stripped themselves away
My true skin feels the light of day,
I leave your monkey chatter- Your screaming things that do not matter
From the book
"The Butcher's Block: Poems of Poverty"
by Chris Taylor
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