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Corner Crawler

Poetry By: IvyWinter

A poem born of stream of conciousness.

Submitted:Mar 9, 2007    Reads: 103    Comments: 0    Likes: 0   

I fall into the spaces made for me
and let go tightly.

The darkness into which I've retreated
keeps the flowers dim.

I am such the social
they forget I exist.

But I havn't been so happy
as I was when I met death.

Everything moves like science fiction.


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