deepundergroundpoetry.com
(untitled)
A ghostly bus rolls down the street, illuminated-
never stopping- only to pass by me for half a second-
I see my hunched reflection
for half a second- then it’s gone.
Yet I feel forever trapped
In the inescapable image
Etched on the edge of perception
my soul riding towards some known
but forgotten location-
weary, for eternity.
never stopping- only to pass by me for half a second-
I see my hunched reflection
for half a second- then it’s gone.
Yet I feel forever trapped
In the inescapable image
Etched on the edge of perception
my soul riding towards some known
but forgotten location-
weary, for eternity.
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