deepundergroundpoetry.com
The feel of the glass
The bottles in my hands,
My mind is in the air.
I see myself walking,
but my feet never touch the ground.
I am wondering what's happening as I drive away.
And I see the boy I hit who won't see the light of another day.
My mind is in the air.
I see myself walking,
but my feet never touch the ground.
I am wondering what's happening as I drive away.
And I see the boy I hit who won't see the light of another day.
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