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Poetry is just the evidence of life. If your life is burning well, poetry is just the ash. Leonard Cohen

Thursday, July 5, 2012

Dangerous Things

Hodnot Spring House, Leakin Park, Baltimore, MD
Deep in the woods where black gum grow
Where children should not go
We have a place that is our own
The grown ups never know

When we go back into our woods
Adult rules don't belong
What we do we do as one
and we are never wrong

Some things you just don't speak of
Some things best left unsaid
You keep some secrets your whole life
They die on your death bed

The gang it always will protect
We watch out for our pack
But if you strike out on your own
you better watch your back

What we see in the woods that day
No one knows what's true
In the creek lay silently
a man that we all knew

Around his head the blood it pools
an accident we said
We leave him there right in the creek
Cause we know dead is dead
 
Some things you just don't speak of
Some things best left unsaid
You keep some secrets your whole life
They die on your death bed

(inspired by the book The Most Dangerous Thing by Laura Lippman)

3 comments:

Brian Miller said...

well i was about to say this all sounds familiar to my childhood...playing int eh woods..and living in the woods...but i dont remember killing any one...

nene said...

Such a relatable piece for me, lolamouse.

In my death bed there will be secrets that will scream from my ashes as they float into the sea.

This was somewhat cathartic for me

darev2005 said...

Every place has it's own little secrets. And you really don't want to know most of them. Just let them lie and walk away quietly and everything will be okay.