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T.R.E.A.T.S. #9 – Coffee Shop Poet

 

Frozen

Thoughts are also silent

Unable to respond

Afraid of decision

And happiness

 

Three words

Written, but not returned

Selfish and absorbent

Destined for departure

And loneliness

 

Pupils

Sharply fixed upon him

Matched with such a blank stare

White tablecloth heavens

Of emptiness

 

Sinking

Stars would surely align

If he’d connect the dots

Canopies empower

Their maker

 

[chorus]

Scrunching her face

There’s a thousand yard space

Between his brain and his eyes

 

Realization

Slowly seeps down

Ink blots on lined paper

With the pace of cowardly

Greediness

 

That he

Put his foot down so hard

There’s a hole in the floor

No carpenter of stature

Could repair

 

[chorus]

 

And it just won’t go away…won’t go away…won’t go away…

Don’t go away…

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