upon
speaking
a
second timeand place to be announced
later on the sirens blare
all day long
retiring to the same
spot daily or so it seems
examining myself and
all I see
holding the page
close to the face
and eyes
no mistake in the transcribing
of thoughts to words
no hope of perfection
into strangers eyes
out of my own
could all I see
be that illusion
nothing concluded
reaching out from the shadows
of an empty heart
not my own
trying harder daily
to piece it all together
scattered among the pieces
shattered images
of thoughts
and cracked up dreams
nothing concluded
hiding in the crowd
a peaceful messenger
one a mission
many take shelter
from the drenching rain
when will all of these
thoughts truly earn their spot
on the imperfect page
out of the mind
best he can be at the moment
any takers on a guided
tour around the mountainous
regions of my mind
as I reassemble these
thoughts once hidden…
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