i need a place
to hide my face
from this disgrace,
some breathing space
this much i know
and so i go
where noise is low
and time gets slow
the words i've said,
the life i've led
i want instead
to clear my head
the times are weird
so much i feared
has now appeared
and when it's cleared
a chirp a bark
the day grows dark
some kind of spark
a voice to hark
my feelings tossed
by bridges crossed
and all the cost
of getting
lost
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Tagged: Tags Poetry
Published by Beleaguered Servant
Owen "Beleaguered" Servant (a/k/a Sibelius Russell) writes poetry mostly, with an occasional pause to have a seizure.
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