rain
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What if the rain
dries out
before my eyes,
missing
the constant
memories
a ghost,
a lonely
pavement
sidewalk.
We step
backwards
I wish
to be
and feel lucky
and not wasted
on Coopers
Sparkling Ale.
Push me over,
into the sewer gates,
will they finally
accept my form,
as my physical
skinniness
accept me down in
their filth and broken.
Copyright © Ryan Geoffrey Hayward | Year Posted 2025
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