Changeling

Changeling

A Poem by Bruce

I wake

in a storm

quiet mondays

barely born

now it's sunday

and hearts are torn

love renewed

and spirits lifted

I barely see the months

as they've shifted

now I sit in the evanescent sun

waiting for the next year to run

bleeding into one

old age eventual locked in your cage

dying faster is now all the rage.

 

© 2009 Bruce


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Added on June 5, 2009

Author

Bruce
Bruce

Chicago, IL



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