My Damn Musings To Go

I'll keep doing this over and over until I get it… wrong

(A parted life, and its dreams.)

Perch

Starkness,
its reality,
reins.
A parted life,
and its dreams,
scattered.
Isolated,
on a cold slab of
marble floor.
Is it smooth,
hoary to touch?
A witness from
this particular perch;
too lofty for emotion
and such emittance.
Too low for indifference.

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