"The moral duty of the free writer is to begin his work at home: to be a critic of his own community, his own country, his own government, his own culture"~Edward Abbey

Thursday, November 17, 2005

I didn't have internet access yesterday so today I present a twofer. One is a cover about pain and anguish on is some of his best writing about his beloved June.

Hurt

Hurt
I hurt myself today
To see if I still feel
I focus on the pain
The only thing that's real
The needle tears a hole
The old familiar sting
Try to kill it all away
But I remember everything

What have I become?
My sweetest friend
Everyone I know
Goes away in the end

And you could have it all
My empire of dirt
I will let you down
I will make you hurt

I wear this crown of thorns
Upon my liar's chair
Full of broken thoughts
I cannot repair
Beneath the stains of time
The feeling disappears
You are someone else
I am still right here

What have I become?
My sweetest friend
Everyone I know
Goes away in the end

And you could have it all
My empire of dirt
I will let you down
I will make you hurt

If I could start again
A million miles away
I would keep myself
I would find a way

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