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Tuesday, February 5, 2019


Wandering Alone
Relinquishing all my dreams
Empty fantasies

Day-dreams and visions
It is one hundred degrees
Sitting in the sun

Vanishing being
The sun burns an arcing path
Through the silvered sky

The tar is boiling
Its stink rises in the world
Wafting in the wind

Words seep from my lips
Parched and cracking, turbulent
Noisome speeches drift

Lost refutations
Is this world I imagined
The folly of hope

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