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The Places I've Not Trodden In Some Time
 
I just missed the sun with my fading grip,
Even though I've been told it would have burned my hands.

Full of life but overwhelmed by it,
Sometimes I have to hush myself as if I were a newborn.

The kingdom was overcome in two days,
Small sounds and large thoughts.

Tired eyes and a general numbness,
Dull the sparkle and glimmer of a new hope.

Grand thoughts deteriorate,
Into questions and a reclusiveness.

I tried to catch the moon once,
But was unable to jump that high.

The little moon, itís little hands,
Waved right back as if I were only being friendly.

The reach is where the failure is,
There is less focus on the unacquired.

Eccentric, perhaps, at my brightest,
No less than madness in the same hour.



By southernblood

© 2015 southernblood (All rights reserved)

 

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