Saturday, April 12, 2014

This crick in my neck

Shall I relate to you 
The way in which I saw those stars

It seemed that only I 
Could truly see them for their wonder
A wonder pure and untechnical 

Every night I craned my neck 
Just to glimpse those
Shiny specks of hope

I fancied I saw the faintest hues of 
Blue and red 
A promise of other masses out there

Floating in that infinite amount of space 
Where my pain looks quite small and insignificant 

As the days passed and my wonder grew
I noticed others did not crane their necks as I did
Did they not see and feel the infinite amounts of hope and doom and desperation? 

Again I wonder
Can't they hear ants walk

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