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Rated: E · Poetry · Emotional · #1027833
free-verse poem based on a dream; published in "A Celebration of Young Poets"
The darkened room, the slow-turning fan
The bed by my wall, and me on the bed
The mirror adjacent, the piece that fell out
The piece shaped like "q", I caught in my hand...

The piece in my hand, the chain on the fan
The sound that it made, the sound that did "click"
Over and over...


The glass in my hand, the glass that I dropped
The shards on the floor, those Shards of Glass
The mess on the floor, the floor I should clean…

My feet on the bed, now over the side
The side of the bed, just over the glass
The glass on the floor, the Shards of Glass
The glass that now pointed, pointed straight up…

The glass I can't see, the glass on the floor
The floor by my bed, I put my feet down
The glass on the floor, the glass pointing up
Now stuck in my feet, I fall to my knees...

The pain in my feet, it shot up my legs
The pain in my legs, I cannot move
I can't move forward, I can't get up
The glass that now holds me, holds me down
And keeps me from the door...
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