Corner Crawler

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
A poem born of stream of conciousness.

Submitted: March 09, 2007

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Submitted: March 09, 2007

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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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