A Den of Desired Loneliness
I have become a den of desired loneliness,
hiding from society, concentrating on words
that make sense to me, if not to others...
and believe me my stories leave no doubts:
I unearth them from my past to find many truths.
My hair needs trimming and grooming I resemble a wandering raccoon,
I haven't shaved this morning, just showered in a hurry...
not to miss another contest deadline and lose my price;
and glad to have completed one this afternoon, I'm feeling like a balloon
that goes higher and higher until it reaches the mighty stars.
Copyright © Andrew Crisci | Year Posted 2011
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