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Two Ninety-Six Point Thirty-Three

I count the steps from my bed to the door And I wonder if I can. I count the steps from my bed to the door And I wonder if I dare not to. I've spent years wondering-- I've kept my head in the clouds, Or in books, Or under the sheets To be anywhere but here. There must have been times when I've been elsewhere But right now, I forget.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2012




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Date: 4/29/2014 6:17:00 PM
Fascinating with the paradoxical twist. Very well composed.
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Date: 11/9/2013 3:58:00 PM
Your poetry is so ethereal in it's sense of futility - between living and no living. Kathy
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Anamika N
Date: 11/9/2013 4:33:00 PM
Thank you! :)

Book: Shattered Sighs