February 9, 2013

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Softly, somewhere, a piano sings

A whispering tune that I have never heard

It’s my hope, the sound of the keys is encouraging

My own fairy tale, just without the violation of words

And I find myself remembering, or at least believing, that

I could remember the place of collective self and happiness

It’s without Greed, the killer, the monster that will devour the world;

A plague that ravages you from the inside.

Legs shaking under the steering wheel, I hide it

Blue lights flashing in the rear-view mirror, an intrusion of the night, they hurt my eyes

A confusing warning, a paranoia sponging up the awkwardness

In that moment, I flash-forwarded to a million scenarios of what was in my pocket

The system is corrupt and weak

But we still believe it

We are abstract clouds that wander through the fields, their sheep

Somehow lost in this crossfire of a country’s desire to everything

 

 

 

I am grateful for good blessings. ❤

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5 responses »

  1. Pingback: Monthly Archives: February 2013 | Muse Writer

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