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in the park

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life’s numb reality
comes every sunday
as I sit outside
smoking shit cigarettes
watching the churchgoers
rush to their cars
and get as far away
from god as possible
we can never be
the people we want
no one is ever there
at the top of the hill
we just keep walking
and then it grows dark


Written by burrben

July 15, 2012 at 3:06 pm

Posted in poetry

Tagged with ,

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