Cold Coffee & A Stash Of Lost Dreams

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Cold coffee & a stash of lost dreams
A distant memory of those rail yards
But we weren’t ourselves with honesty
Not the renegades or anything that hard
Images of what we might yet become
Grabbing self-regard before it fades
Destroying their notions of modernism
Returning to simpler times & dark shades
We all have our morbid skeletons
The vague semblance of a broken soul
But somewhere are the clues to the truth
Somewhere when lightning meets a weary, old skull

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A Foggy Morning Along The Swamp

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A foggy morning along the swamp

A chill down your spine; the Earth still

I grab a coffee & another one on the go

Can’t get trapped, we remain with life to fulfill

Indications of the night wearing off

Pixie dust lingering where my dreams used to be

Her touch; fingerprinted on my soul

I close my eyes, she’s still who I always see

I’m Doing My Best

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I’m doing my best, can’t you see
Amidst the horrors of modern day
The ghost stories rising in the mind
The times when you’re in your own way
You grab at your head in pain
The frustration of structured expectation
Pressures of their unintended demands
Prompting proclamations of demarcation