Thursday, February 12, 2009

you are apart of

it isn't funny to me

Now that I'm sitting inside the gray
day to day
I can no longer display
my tall talk of
schemes and half hatched dreams

Hours cemented to a muted, dark, blue
these thick walls block the skies vast views

I can no longer be a critic
as much as I want to stand alone
my feet refuse to move, they can only mimic

I no longer need a telescope to see
the waves of pity
for they are at my shore

I thought I had more


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