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Rated: E · Poetry · Psychology · #2149494
A brief poem enjoy
Waiting,a silence fills the air as time stands still,
A thought of fresh desire is nothing Ill,

Holding every moment ,ticking clock,
Hands pass slowly,all begins to stop,

Suspense ,leading up to what may be the end,
Watching ideas break and fall and bend,

Folding nicely back within my walls,
As oxygen beneath my rib cage stalls,

Erase it and open up the door to start again,
The door to where,the door to here and then...

Bliss
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2149494-Bliss