A Dick

Along 

time

we 

go.

To

where?

do 

not 

know.

But 

swift

is

our

motion,

commotion,

and conversation

about

timeless 

paradoxes.

I believe that somewhere,

... I have been there before...

holds my mind.

Locked in the jaws

of screaming boys.

Tantalizing grasps within one home.

I cannot even write about it because it

doesn't make sense.

I can remember,

but I don't.

 

It only brings sorrow.

 

Friends died,

friendships withered,

& love could not be

held accountable

for such attrocities.

 

So many things I have

dissappeared.

 

Covered with laughter

and 

what a 

good time.

 

I write weird..

not in language

but in

 handwriting

its very 

sloppy 

and 

long.

8==D

Ha.

I'm 

funny.

This poem is about: 
Me
My community
Our world

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