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I stand asleep and staring at my feet

I stand asleep and staring at my feet:
Two soles so lost and may ne'er tarry--
Where dreams and premonition meet
And to where does a restless mind carry?
Talent wasted on frivolity
Dwindling hope like spider-webs so spin
Gambling future, a mere uncertainty.
The soul's a wretch who hates the mind, her kin.
Let the expectations of life us lose
Throw back our youth to such regressive tide
Sleep so ignores a blessing of its muse
These feet ignoble, indecisive hide.

Stand near, dear friend, and listen to my lies
I am true prophet of my own demise!

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freetyme This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. said...
Oct. 26, 2009 at 9:10 am
Note concerning author comments: "While Robert Frost is not famous for Sonnets like William Shakespeare, he he famous for sounding peculiarly 'old'."
Should have "is" instead of a second "he". I apologize for the careless error and any others that may also be present.
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