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Before Bedtime
Sitting in my old armchair
By the open loggia door
Am I here, or back there
Where I’ve been before?
In the stilllness of the night
Sounds of racing cars
Mingle with the distant light
Of the faded stars
I look out into the dark
Little lights around
Cannot put on me the mark
Of this foreign bound
Its a saddest joke, this land
Not the thing I own
And I clearly understand
This is not my home
Looking at the trees below
See the branches sway
“Soon to bed we have to go”
Is that what you say?
Copyright ©
Gregory Colodub
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