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Bedtime Prayer

Another episode complete,
- the end of a binge
manufactured busyness
to cloak the insignificance
of these lonely moments
when I should resign myself,
to an invented deity
of the accepting persuasion.

This should be that tranquil window,
to assess
and inspect
the dents of a day.

But I am not a sleek, polished Cadillac.
I run on economy fuel
and on foot.

Nor am I any marvel of architecture
that towers above pre-fab dwellings
or cardboard villages.

Soon I will be drawn into the shadows
of pity and fatigue.

I shouldn't need your arm across my chest,
or to hear your praises

but some days,
these days,

I want it.
Written by Tenderloin
Published
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