Blissfully asleep
yet our souls
awakened.
Child like hands
Pressed into each other
A prayer-
To heaven or to hell?
The blackness of our lives
mixed with the light.
Forming the gray lines
Of a
Politically
Correct
Society.
And what of the prayer?
‘Twas spoken to the wind.
Tumbling, tilting, stuttering
through our very own
conscious selves.



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