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Four Little KittensFour little kittens where born yesterday.
Sent down from heaven.
Sent down to play.
Four little kittens, an unplanned surprise.
He didn't want them.
He didn't have time.
Four little kittens didn't last long.
Only a few hours old.
Treated so wrong.
Four little kittens died yesterday.
Send back to heaven.
There they play.
Four little kittens I found today.
Stuffed in a bag.
SleepNight has fallen. The day is done.
Sleep my darling. My life, my love.
Tomorrow brings a promise, but today is still today.
May every kiss I give, chase your sorrows away.
Let your eyes close. My soul, my heart.
For these few hours we shall part.
Dawn waits to greet you. My warm embrace.
Until then my only. My one. My grace.
DogHe was called Dog,
That was his name.
You see I said was.
Today that changed.
His number was called,
His time was up.
He licked her hand.
(He was only a pup.)
She held his paw.
And poisoned his vein.
She was good a her job,
He felt no pain.
His dark eyes closed,
He uttered a whine.
His body fell still,
He'd reached his time.
He was called Dog.
That was his name.
Left at the pound,
He ran out of days.
Careful ActionA boy is in class when his grandma drops by.
She came for no reason. Just to say hi.
The other children begin to make fun.
'Look how quickly to Gramma you run!'
The boy hugs his gran and turns with a smile.
'When did you see yours? Has it been a while?
A few stop to think. The boy just sighs.
'I know a few of you. I know yours died.'
These mentioned hang their heads.
The rest glance their way, faces red.
The grandma's face is filled with silent pride.
The boy reaches up to wipe tears from her eyes.
He holds her hand and steadies its shake.
'What if morning come she failed to wake?'
That very same evening, grandma passed away.
Not one person knew it was her final day.
Let this be a thought to all to pass on again.
What was the last thing you said in the end?
The TrundlerThe waste land behind the fire station is always silent. No birds sing there, and even the wild rabbits and feral cats avoid it. Weedy wildflowers nod their seasonal heads in the breeze. Lying fallow in the midst of housing developments, shopping malls, the new movie theater — the vacant lot stands out like a knife wound on a woman’s placid face, shocking, brazen, ugly.
It is always empty. Except for one thing: a ragged heap of old trash, all nasty black tar paper and vicious snarls of rusted wire, car parts and broken glass and other junkyard jetsam. The embodiment of injury waiting to happen, an invitation to a tetanus shot... the city never hauled it away. No one ever wants anywhere near it; it radiates an eerie sense of calculating watchfulness.
And at night, it wanders.
When darkness falls, and the last cars heading into the hives of tract housing stop illuminating the asphalt with moving-picture shadows, it… unfolds. Bitter, broken tangles, grotesquely mov
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scheinbar is a much-loved and well-known deviant. Just one look at her gallery, filled with enchanting photography, will have you mesmerized. A deviant for over 7 years, Christiane can always be found posting inspirational features as well as regularly commenting on other deviations and encouraging and empowering her fellow deviants. We are inspired and insist that you too stop by and congratulate ... Read More