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Rated: E · Poetry · Experience · #1226476
A poem about growing up, leaving home, and realizing that you are a stranger in the world.
by Seth Pevey

Upon My arrival at Tulane


Rain.
When enters a city and I
Confused, mostly by my
Self,
but also at time's passing and 
hands flashing against the sky.
And everything
else;

Streetcar drones worker bee's beats
and stones and streets
    unfold- the way
Souls, or
Chinese treats might
Say;
    (Sold to never knowing why
      doors are slamming shut,
      you’re ever showing what
      Freedom's may 
                fly open.)             
Still, I;

Try the root broke lanes
eye my rising smoke and flames
walk in the rain-fall
city's sink,

Sometime think;
          (never aloud)
weather signs belie the
sky of faces in the crowd,
Goodness, Graces,
to be Proud.
And to be,
and to sing free Love’s loud.

But hey, maybe I'll "relax man"-
         quietly come down.
Stop making Love wax
above in some rain cloud
Who,
when what he cannot do
But fill,

the pointless rain
      will only spill-
         to wavering puddles on the ground.

And even then man, all the people just step
Around.

Why be
Hypnotized at his expense?
when,
even after roars and claps sound
            Rip
open the sky,
                      He
Is 
                     Empty-
                         Drip.

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