Lunch Break

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic


So there's a error here or there with the format and the word "real" which is supposed to be "teal." But auto correct isn't your friend so making sure to take the extra step to submit things
through a laptop or computer is worth it.

Submitted: July 13, 2018

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Submitted: July 13, 2018

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On a rainy and sticky day Where the sky grows real The sweet smell of cinnamon roses Sends a sublime fervor to my being. I ponder as I walk down this thorny rose road, It spikes pierce my feet. Yet my frozen snowflake of a soul gives me the strength to keep moving. I focus on the smell and not the day or the struggle I focus on the soul and not the emptiness of the world around me. My vintage fedora and rain coat shine a violent vivacious violet While my dress shirt, pants, vest, and shoes are a dull silent silky smoky grey. Being entranced in one's own world can clear the hurricanes around you Allowing one to walk a measly five blocks and experience the aforementioned.


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