Saturday, February 9, 2013

Bare

Sometimes
I imagine
Myself
Walking down
The city street
Past the
Freaks lunchbox
Over citadel hill
I see
Grey
Side walks
Shop windows
Bright lights
A home
Of ten years
I have sad
 
The city
Has sad
A hole
Without windows
Without trees
Water
That is
As grey
As sidewalks
Bone memories
In the winter
In the summer
And the boys want
To ask me out
 
And you are bare
 
Will memories of here
Haunt me
In ten years?

 

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