We Write These Stories

February 8, 2009
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I throw my life away.
Tattered sheets out in the wind
Some more white to burn and blend.
I sit on roofs and stare at stars
But only maps say where we are.
I run down streets in pouring rain
Even wet, this town can't change.
I hop a train to leave this land
Find an ocean to hold my hand.
I won't slip and I won't drown
But quiet's sad for what could be loud.
I'm locked inside this six mile cage
And scream and shour and cry with rage.
Little dreams are filled with hope
That this isn't all God wrote.
I'll jog until the nighttime falls
I'll leave these graying streets and walls.
Color waits on other sides
My promises I will abide.
Kiss these memories goodbye
Find a place to live, not die.

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Emily J. said...
Dec. 22, 2009 at 6:53 pm
wow this is great! i love your style, I try to incorporate something like it when I write.
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