I'm seen presently.
I'll rob you blind afterward,
before this reading.
How does it work?
More stories from PW and writers in Poets and other communities.
And I said, "...to what end do we speak, communing as do the dead, when all that will pass, in light of what has existed,
By PW3 years ago in Poets
They urge me, “say it with more feeling!” As if it isn’t my very feelings that are the culprit for this stoic numbness As if it isn’t my very feelings that I’m drowning in
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Early morning rush Weary workers wend their way Single puff of smoke
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The diary is a Pandora's box of secrets The fountain of fortune is muted in the pouring rain. The wind creaks the metal sign like twisted bones.
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