Time to dwell on living,
Stand next to myself,
Kick rocks, pick flowers,
Cannot sit in my head,
Barbed wires twisting my words,
With empathetic sympathy,
Trained to see the tainted waves,
Crashing over,
Still humans,
Forever falling into,
Childish blankets,
Used to cover up the sheets
Of onion peels,
Stinging eyes, slow hearts,
Standing in place,
Watching everything be buried,
By Muddy backgrounds and Blurred lines.
By Robin L.A. Shaw
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