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The Thing: Short Poetry Collection

So this is the thing I now know what the citizens have been celebrating Something like happiness

Hilltops anonymous Treefarers riding the northwestern winds Stake out at the Five Star Just for dimes and green tea or something

The eye above the city descending Tails trailing behind and before it Doesn’t even see me I’m right here where I’ve always been and I’m about to leave Persuade me to stay Why wouldn’t I?

I was to be Isaiah Why can’t I be the prophet and the privileged? It was easier then When I didn’t know what I’d laid on the alter And I was sure I knew and was proud of it

The orange moon through the trees through the wrong lens Potential unmatched beauty But it will soon be plain, by the time I’m prepared But I have to keep staring to see what’s left of the spectacle

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