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Rated: E · Poetry · Psychology · #1749753
Passing the time, afraid of the world.
View from an attic

Cobwebs form an endless seam,
across an apex beam,
sunshine eclipses velvet curtain,
perhaps by chance, for what is certain?

A landscape, from life within,
free from original sin,
a painting on the wall, a rural paradise,
for dreams are always nice?

Light streams in to pierce the sky,
mortal thoughts will question why?
our stay, so short, brings compromise,
a failure mirrored in your eyes.

Outside on the roof a little bird,
Its tilted head, hears every word,
my counsellor on life’s regret,
For never do we pause lest we forget.

Dust never sleeps, it merely floats,
like speckled spots on layered coats,
and model aeroplanes and boats,
share sliding shelves, like anecdotes.

A view from an attic, always fun,
I’d recommend to everyone,
Hold your breath and look outside,
you seldom answer why you hide?
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