Day 1461

…You could feed
a small family
With the meal he makes
of his words
And I wonder
Is this my fate
To mumble before
a whispering smatter
Hairline taking flight
with my dignity
Slowly enunciating
ethereal lies I swear
Give me meaning
All I hear
Watching him close his eyes
Is the respecting thought
Tomorrow can just
Slow the fuck down…

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