Limpid House

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

Submitted: August 18, 2012

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Submitted: August 18, 2012

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This limpid house 
That's made of glass 
Is letting me 
Go into 
It didn't ask 
If I have the pass 
'Cause I'm the one 
To get to 

There are around so many things 
From my outside life 
It makes me sick of things to recognise... 

All theatre acts 
Are taking pause 
To make the kind 
Of "think of..." 
In limpid house 
That's made of glass 
I have some facts 
To face to 

I see around so many things 
From my outside life 
It makes me sick of things to recognise... 

...And then I realised that I 
Could not have to know that the glass will brake 
The reason of is my emotional eye 
And minor-chorded face 

'Cause I saw there so many things 
From my inside life 
And it made me sick of things I recognised.


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