Monday, October 18, 2010

Sometimes, in a clouded mind.
Other times not.
Fronts are moving in...
be prepared for anything.
I've got my rain boots,
I've got an umbrella.
I'll find myself in a bunker... alone.
When will this let up?
When will there be time for me?
I'm afraid I'll die here.
Unaccompanied and inexperienced.
What's the point?

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