| Open Poetry #45 |
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Same Day |
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Tomer Senior Member
since 2002-06-28
Posts 1168Michigan |
IÕm in the kitchen with my left hand on the bottle, And the sink running through the different knives and forks That sit with one another. With a pointed nose And blue pierced eye, I wait through the hours, But have nowhere to go. I am standing so high, But my feet sleep. I got use to walking without shoes, That my feet donÕt move anymore. I wake up at the same time, Without a thought, a hesitation, I wake for someone else, Not my own intuition. I sleep to be seen by someone, But itÕs all a dream, ItÕs all too real. |
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