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DISILLUSIONED

By Hidden



I write what I see

I see what I know

Today’s season is about warmth

Heat burning on the face as it rests bare before a burning orb

The dead things: they morph

Something I need to learn to do


I shut my hollow eyes

Feeling long lashes dust my cheeks

Don’t listen to the conniving creature’s lies

The grass blades tickle one warm palm

I could sleep here

So so so calm


The other hand has a different sensation

Cold jagged rocks that combine with distant wailing

An agonizingly horrid situation

It’s only a disillusioned dream

Nothing is ever what it seems


© Copyright Dark Poets Club

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