Poem -

Desperation Killed the Cat

Desperation Killed the Cat

 standing at the crossroads

 looking for a meal;

a stray cat cold and hungry

 dust and desperation

colors my clothes

  and hunger has me delusional  

  playing poker 

with the devil himself;   

 holding nothing but bad luck

  shaking like a reed in the wind
 
when cutting eyes 

read me like an open book;

saying a lake of words

in one silent,

 disrespectful look   

   turning the air cold as death-- 

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Comments

author
Devon La Porte

Christopher what's up man? A lot of really awesome lines comprised through out this write. I get the cat which could be a slang word for the man who as desperate as he is now all nine lives seemingly ran out at the same time. When the devil gives him that disrespectful look after reading him and his situation it struck me odd like he hadn't even a desirable soul to bargain with the devil. As always a very interesting and thought worthy write from you brother.

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author
Christopher Correia

Brad, lol... thank you for the comment, and I will edit it later and put a cat in it somehow; promise

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author
Christopher Correia

Devon, I'm well, bro....been putting in long hours with a few projects I'm tryin to  finish this week, thanks for comment....I'll message you later, cheers

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author
AMBER LEGOWSKI

I agree 100% with Cherie. You are an impeccable writer. You always create so much imagery. Good job man. keep it coming 

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author
Christopher Correia

Amber, me and my ego thank you very much, lol.....a very nice thing to say, I'm always trying to get better, believe me....have a wonderful day, my friend

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author
Christopher Correia

Cherie, thank you so much for your gracious comment, and please forgive me, I don't come on Cosmo as much as I used to, so I miss a lot....I'm wondering if I'm over the internet poetry site thing, lol... been thinking a lot  recently about writing a book on the subject; the fascination with it, it really is an entity filled with interesting people, talented as well....not really driven to write or post poetry lately, been reading a lot though, thanks again for comment, sis. be well

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author
August Arps

This poem is a lurch into a bitter doom that begs nothing from the cosmos save the voice to scream without lungs or judgement. A bitter pill and a blossom taking up space in the same point of a pointless suffering. A discreet gamble that confesses the crossroads have their charm and hexing devils, but a man walks to them. You shine a light where a dark thing squats in the corner of a round room. You wrote a poem. 

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author
Christopher Correia

thank you, August, your comment fuels my ego even more....with all the sincerity I can muster, thank you....I appreciate the time you invested in reading this, and your comment is more than kind, cheers

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author
Christopher Correia

Thanks, Whispy Whisp, I appreciate your kindness, have great day, glad you liked....

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