deepundergroundpoetry.com
talking to the night
it's cold
this time
of night,
i sit
in the
darkness,
waiting
for
the moon
to rise,
to see
if my
voice
could soar
out
into space
and maybe
disappear
before
being heard,
these
carefree
stars are
unconcerned
with my
presence.
this time
of night,
i sit
in the
darkness,
waiting
for
the moon
to rise,
to see
if my
voice
could soar
out
into space
and maybe
disappear
before
being heard,
these
carefree
stars are
unconcerned
with my
presence.
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