Poem

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Poem

Shadoe Lass


Do I have monopoly

on the words that come from me?

When do they get owned,

by someone else for free?

Do I have a destiny,

preferably one within reach?

Or am I a walking tomb,

just swallowing dreams.


Am I wallowing in dreams?

Am I swimming in the deep?

Or is that the weight of being alone:

the same as being free.

Am I something fresh: clean?;

something more than just ME.

I think I've traveled the whole road

and now the signs just repeat.


Can you sign this repeat?

That only made sense to me.

I know I've given up hope--

that's what's left for you to see.

As I slur and blur and reword my speech,

One thing to realise and be.

I'm finally just a drone..

Hallow, wordless, devoid of *\(._.)/* ... Empty.

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