The Long Day
Sandwiched inThese needles of
Despair.
I cannot find
The key
To the door
Of sanity.
Breathing, this
Is what it takes
For me.
And through
The stillness of
My pain, it
Lingers in
The colony of
The lost.
Founded by
Mistakes
And scorns,
I float; as
Passers-by
Give freely of
Their angry
Stares.
Dropping to
The heat of
The day
There follows
The still of
The night.
As my heart
Bleeds into my
Soul
Of wrinkes
Down below
The surface.
6-16-09
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