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Repeating Yesterday

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tomorrow,
the sun will rise and its rays will shine gradually
the way a baby opens its eyes

near the window will be I, small and dreary
like faded paint
smeared unruly and hard to distinguish

my arms will dance across the sky contorted
and my mind will drift
wishing these streets weren’t so silent

wishing there’d be an array of violent wind instead of
summer heat

the hours will fly by uneventfully and I’ll return to bed
fall asleep, dream and wake up just to repeat yesterday
again and again.





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