"Dust thou art to dust returnest"


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Tuesday, May 14, 2013

Afterthought


Words are left out of the crowd
Filter the eyes through smoky rooms
There is a sense of not belonging... not ever.
I seclude myself, sedate the afterthought
Holding several pills in the palm of hands
Watching the moons face sadden with the reality not made
Something has to be enough to hold the stars in place...
Sleep. no longer be a prayer,
But a dismal cry... 
No longer be a dream, in lifeless eyes 
No longer know thy wisdom
Feel a smile, hear the laughter, no longer be.

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