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Friday, July 8, 2011

I Can

I cannot shut out the noise, the colors, the distress,
The cacophony of voices in my head,
The kaleidoscope of blinding brightness,
And I feel cold and dark and wet in bed.
And as the sun sets over my enthusiasm,
I become a dead man, ugly like a corpse,
Wandering through a desert like a demon,
Hot and sweaty, dripping with brackish remorse.
No longer making camp in the shifting grains,
I’m climbing mountains of sand to become free,
Searching for rest, yearning to shade the pain,
I’m nearing my breaking point, nearing the peak.
And as the sun sets on my old life
A new day begins and I see the sky.

Copyright © 2011 David S. Robinson. Any part of this work may be transmitted, preformed or otherwise used in any form, so long as 1) I am clearly identified as the author, 2) a link or URL to this site is included, and 3) no changes are made without my prior written consent.

p.s. Feel free to comment on anything you liked or didn't like. :)

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