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In my Room
To mark the passing of moments
lines in the dust,
a fools tally,
for shaky hands
and heavy breaths.
Turns the wheels behind wrinkled brow
faces too blurry,
just motions and sound.
Days pass
then comes the night.
Reality swells beyond grasping
retreat into the dark,
as bait ...
I'll take it and then...
break bonds - what's freedom?
no words then end.
"..lines in the dust..."
I kept going back reading it over and over. I speaks volumes - slc