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Lost Things

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I am one broken dream.
A lost soul.
The last time I stood on solid ground,
I was pulled deep into the water,
By a force that they call gravity,
The strongest force in this small universe.
I was crippled and crooked,
Bent in places that weren’t meant to be bent,
Crying for the help that I would never get.
The screaming river washed me away,
Whispering harshly,
“You do not exist.”
Then she pushed her arms about me like I did not exist,
laughing her loud,
warbled laugh that hurt and pressed against my body,
I rushed along
The rough, watery floor,
Stuffed with silver knives and daggers who were
run dull with years of the screaming River rushing above them.
They must be broken dreams too.
And so I cried aloud as
They shoved me and pushed me along my path,
Shouting,
“You can feel no pain.” And so
as I watched the screaming River fly freely above me,
Feeling my crooked and broken self,
as she pushed me deep into her soil,
I settled in to watch day and night go by for eternity,
With no where to go,
Nothing to do and nothing to become.
But nothing matters for me.
For I am just another broken dream.





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