Sense

image

Here I am,
In God’s own country,
The gusty winds blow,
Accompanying the heat,
The distant cawing,
And the tin foils creaking,
The sky gazes upon,
Sharing his sympathy

Why am I here,
Out in this wild,
When all I ever did,
Was sit locked inside,
With eyes glued so tight,
On the monitor in front

Weren’t my day,
Supposed to end,
With all of its time,
Spent well online,
But why am I here,
Leaving em there,
Sitting outside,
Lost in nature

I took out my phone,
And started to swipe,
This side and that,
To put out some words,
Which when read,
Makes up no sense,
But that ain’t no reason,
To stop reading a swipe,
The truth be told,
Nothing makes sense.

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Posted on August 22, 2013, in Poems and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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