Best Poem of Odey Patricks

Suicide Paradise
Here, where the humming fan is still
and the firmament bulbs dimmed
flies shall over my limp form buzz-
a befitting funeral with no cost.

None shall find me
till my Life's glass empty seeps,
hung, feet above the ground,
once the noose has come around.

This deed I hurry to do quick . . .
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Time Bomb
Tick tock in my Head
Beeps the Timer on and on
Events coming to a Head
The Victims feel they'v had enough.

Blood of 'matyrs'
freshly spilled
smoked flesh on splinters held
Sacred grounds a Graveyard now
The Victims feel they've had enough.

Take back those words, Preacher
they . . .
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