what would it
take
so much left
unsolved
wonders whether
he cares at all
half a cup of
coffee down
thinking on
four hours sleep
barely anything
to eat
the family near
by
what would it
take
mornings will
never be the same
no good
memories
worth looking
back on
the heap of
trash that came to be
and between two
immovable objects
the physical
plane
has always
given him the most trouble
not a pretty
picture
behind the
eight ball
from the get go
what would it
take
to undo the
wrong decisions made
two years ago
this July
blood boiling
in an empty heart
in August he’s
alone again
expecting less
each day
and surprised
by every letter
or phone call
and after
all the bad
times this spot
is still
visited by many
what would it
take
some sort of
division
splitting of a
feeling
missed more
than anything else
no one
understands his ramble
that’s probably
the point
not far behind
at least
what would it
take
what color
would the sky have to be
and the pigs
flying or whatever
they say now
maybe it’s in
what they don’t say
he doesn’t know
he simply
wonders a lot…
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