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OUTLAST
August 16, 2021
Being alive, from the tick of a clock
To pages teared off from a calendar, the fatigue
From sunrise to the chaos after sunset. Closing
Eyes, sensing the panic screaming around the world, men
‘s lives, similar to the clothes we wear when we were young,
Are lost. Lending no hours to
Regret. I wander around on the lawn,
Lie down on the weeping grass, traveling across
The universe, counting the stars.
© Brian M., Fishers, IN
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