AN AMERICAN CINQUAIN as a sequence
So close, so close the sound, I hear but cannot see within a scene,too surreal for me I run I run away in slow motion,so slow time stands still,my frozen legs will not go the scream, the scream so loud, this cry I ought have known a voice of despair echos- my own about, about,it shouts, I turn and stir..awake- then doze..asleep I drift into my dream
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