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A Prison Filled With Smoke

 I drew with a pencil that broke in the middle I drew with the shorter half that choked on the riddle I knew it was going to be harder to hide my fiddle I drew on top of a scar that had been ripped open too far I drew the stitches to cover the leakage in rage I made the lead to break I drew dark glasses to hide my eyes from lies that cover my face I drew empty classes where I teach freedom I knew no one would come and take the risk that it encompasses I drew the bucket  that has holes everywhere I drew the station that never sees a train only the pain of everything passing right through the empty tracks I drew a relation that is always in tension what should I say how should I pay what should I do not to stay I drew a blanket to cover my soul I drew a bullet to destroy the ghoul I knew someone will call me out I knew someone will shout I drew a chair where I can sit and think about being fair I drew a floor filled with gravity of good time smoke gathered around me suddenly, I ...

Window

Waiting on her window..
Everyday for a passing shadow.
Not turning towards her..
Still making an innocent stir.
As days go by..
Getting glued to the window…
That urges her to follow..
Despite the unchanging pathways..
that might eventually lead to her..
Kept making the distant spur.
Finally the shadow was gone..
And the curtains were drawn.
Those eyes did never look..
Cause that shadow had overlook.
While someone’s hair had flew on her way..
As she stood up to walk away.

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