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Power cables are the lines on the page of my morning sky,
A blank book for my story, not a page to ruin,
I erase what I don't need, cross out my mistakes,
I make bold what I want and Underline what I believe in.

A bird, like a bug crawls across my scrawl
And takes my focus... And takes my focus.
I plow on regardless, keeping my pace,
Yet the loss of my thoughts echos in chorus.

I march up the pavement, listing what I know,
My finger tracing the words I wrote in the sky.
I'm aware of the city and bustling around me,
Though my lips part with no sound as people pass by.

I try to make sense of the scribbles in my mind;
Navigating doodles & seeking the semantics in the script,
I stumbles & fall over my feet; under their eyes.
I strike my sentence & ignore that I'd tripped.

The air, now thick & mottled with gray and white
Causes creases in the page with the contours of a cloud.
My paper filled with rushed cursive & dots of ink,
Smudged thoughts & etched in words I can't say aloud. †
Written by Rosemary_M
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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