A child is somewhere scribbling,
not quite knowing what to say,
a junkie with a habit of empty words.
The smart money’s on failure
and I can’t seem to sleep,
because the moon is leaking sliver fears.
The polar-bear cocktail,
paints a chalk barricade,
that incoherent scolding's cannot climb.
Hope went unnoticed,
until it was lost,
but sudden silence
- came to make me new.
The marks...
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