November 16, 2010
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My eyelids grow prone,

Only to become heavier,

Like elephants hung by chains,

I'm growing old, I'm growing old,

Not getting any younger.

Crowds ringing through my ears,

Once everything has become a hindrance,

I'm not getting any younger,

Getting through the ABC's,

Only to catch the last of the Z's,

But there's a whole alphabet between that,

Keep going, keep going,

The pillows colder on the other side.

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