11:55a.m. Overview

Thu, 06/01/2017 - 14:08 -- Eviek4

Dear John,


If you thought the altitude was bad in Colorado, you should feel it up here.


In one breath, I am gone.

Sometimes, my mind goes with it...


You used to say I was elsewhere; I'm starting to think you were right.


When I was five, my father gave me the world in a plastic ball, 

But it never bounced high enough.

My lungs were stronger than he could ever know. It was never enough.


I wish you could see it up here, John, I really do.


But you've got your world

And your home. 

Fifteen years ago to this minute it broke. 


And you were content. 


This poem is about: 
Our world


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