Mila Clarke Poems
Waiting For The Wind
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Waiting For the Wind
By Mila Clarke
I'm standing
On a cliff top,
Waiting for the wind to push
Me down `cause I've
Lost the strength
To fall alone.
Too weary to imagine;
My life's a
Soiled ashtray
Filled with all the crap
Left from
Poisoning their lungs.
Looking past the ledge,
I wonder why
I'll take my life tonight,
Shuddering with shame
Numb as bone
I felt no pain
When I made them cry.
Sobbing through the
Years, they took me
To be fixed.
Sew my wrists,
Wipe away
My sickness
To leave their
Minds at ease.
I have no motivation,
No past
Or horrific tribulations
Only that
I've spent my life
Stone cold dead
Breathing
Airless breathe.
The ice of night
Bites my flesh and
I revel in the pain,
Some justice
For a life
Soon wasted
On the swelling
Deep below.
Car lamps
Paint my silhouette,
A shadow in the spray.
Turn on crumbling
Cliff rock to
Discover which
Guardian decided
It cares enough to try.
The wind picks up,
Carries me
To my velvet end.
My Angel
Motionless
Just stares.
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