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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Sports · #1617576
From the files of "where were you when that happened," a misguided poem.
I guess you call that listening
On a carefree, sunny day,
Smiling, just pretending,
You might see things my way.
I’d shout it out from rooftops,
From around the corner, I spy,
This game of nonsense finally stops,
Now I’m an ancient guy.

An ancient guy with guts and glamour,
Coming home real soon,
To go to work with screws and hammer,
A dragon-like cartoon.
For once you see the veritable drought
Of my foodless, unsaved kitchen,
And see the love I go without,
You’ll stop your aimless bitchin’.

Keeping busy, at modest cost,
I still can earn a paycheck,
Nothing gained and nothing lost,
The highest card from your deck.
For once you see the nothings fall
From clearly benchmark turns,
You’ll raise both hands and say, “That’s all,”
Although my heart still burns.
© Copyright 2009 Tim Chiu (mirtx at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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