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Stuck.

Chasing with long strides

after a monument

constantly seeping into my mind.

It is all too loud now,

or too cluttered with the like,

just to ooze and bear

that misleading sight.

Slipped.

Right through the gap

left widely spread

as open as shut tight.

It is closed now,

as boundless boundaries grasped

it by the hold

and tossed it out for gone.

Stuck.

In replay of the timed events,

unexpected sightful structure

lying hurredly in my head.

It is but a dream,

let lookse for one brief breath,

to mock or make the like,

seems such a vibrant, real sight.

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Comment by Bobby Z on February 16, 2011 at 5:08pm
good and morbid like real art...sounds a bit like pot induced..which usually is interestinger...P.s. i like the huge hair...mines long too cos im a taoist pretending i 'm exploring femme energies....its freak circus party...way more fun than dead people...i mean domestic deead people...those who are dead on the other side are infinitely cool......caiio

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