October 7, 2010
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Tea drops, hot, on my shoulder bones,
This place, like an alley, but not quite dark,
Perhaps it's one of those, forgotten zones,
Nothing like the feeling, in the park.

Am I the first one, here?
How can that be? It's great,
This feeling, I feel so near,
The end of my world, came late.

Opening, like a storybook,
Falling, through the pages,
Because that's how, it looks,
Words let loose, from cages.

How, do I respond?
Where, does this place end?
Is there a when, in this tear-filled pond,
Was this just around, the bend?

Is this some kind, of dream?
Do they know, this place is here,
I'm I falling apart, at the seam?
Is this normal, my dear?

Where, do I begin?
How did I fall, in?

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